Fighting Fate
by monkey76
Summary: Post 5x03. "Merlin's eyes were wide with pain. 'Arthur,' he gasped. He brought his hands to the sword's hilt in a weak attempt to push it away. 'I am so sorry,' Arthur said, driving the sword deeper." Determined to save Merlin's life, Arthur and the knights set off on a quest to change the future. Reveal. Friendship. Whump.
1. Prologue

_Excalibur was a mighty sword, meant for a great king and great deeds. Arthur was fairly certain that murdering the hired help — no matter how cheeky, uncoordinated or facetious they may be — was not one of those deeds. Yet, here he was, pointing a blade at the heart of his loyal manservant, whose face was the very image of terror._

_Merlin scrambled backward and found himself against a tree. "It's going to be alright."_

_"No." Arthur's sword swung back and then thrust forward into Merlin's midsection. A laugh cut through the air as the blade found its mark, tearing deep through flesh and bone until it pinned the young servant to the tree behind him. "No!"_

_Merlin's eyes were wide with pain. "Arthur," he gasped, blood dribbling out the corner of his mouth. He brought his hands to the sword's hilt in a weak attempt to push it away._

_"I am so sorry," Arthur said, driving the sword deeper. "I'm sorry."_

_"Remember your promise," Merlin said. He winced and coughed more blood. His eyelids began to droop._

_"So much for the mighty Emrys," Morgana cackled. "Felled by a sword of a foolish king."_

"No!" Arthur cried out, bolting upright. Panting, he took stock of his surroundings until he realized that he was in his bedchambers beside a very startled looking Guinevere.

"Arthur, what is it?" she asked. She rested her hand on his shoulder and looked up at him sleepily.

"I..." Arthur took a breath and looked around again. "It was nothing. Just a dream."

"Again? That must be the eighth time in as many nights." She sat up and took his hand in hers. "Are you ever going to tell me what these dreams are about? Something is obviously affecting you deeply. Perhaps talking about it could help. I hate to see you like this, Arthur."

"I don't remember," Arthur lied. "It is probably just stress getting to me. I should ask Gaius for a sleeping draught."

Guinevere did not look convinced. "Are you certain?"

"Yes, I am sorry that I woke you." Arthur threw the bedclothes off of himself and slipped his feet to the floor. "Go back to sleep."

"What are you doing?" she asked while watching him dress.

"The king of Camelot cannot be seen about in nothing but his nightclothes."

"Seen about where?"

"Anywhere. I just need some fresh air."

"Arthur..."

"Sleep, Guinevere," Arthur insisted with a pointed look. "I won't have you losing sleep to my own restlessness." He leaned over the bed and kissed her gently. "I won't be gone long."

She gave him a small smile and settled back into a laying position. "Alright."

Arthur pulled on a pair of boots before kissing his wife again. "Sleep well."

Once the door closed behind him, Arthur made his way toward the court physician's chambers, not for the first time that week. After his third sleepless night, Arthur had gone in pursuit of a draught while Merlin was busy polishing armor and boots. He had not even intended on telling Gaius about the nightmares, but the old man had only needed a bit of prying to pull the truth out of him.

The content of Arthur's nightly dreams obviously disturbed Gaius, who was both fond of his ward and wary of bad omens. Arthur had visited every morning since then to discuss his recurring nightmares with the man.

This was the first time, however, that Arthur had come in the dead of night, but he could not wait until morning to discuss this dream with Gaius.

Arthur quietly slipped into the physician's chambers and closed the door. "Gaius?" he whispered.

A loud snore came from the bed near the fireplace and Arthur saw that Gaius was still fast asleep. He moved to wake the man but caught sight of the door that was ajar across the room — the door to Merlin's small bedroom.

A sort of foolish worry had been nagging at Arthur's mind, as it had each time he woke from one of his dreams. It was absurd, really, to be made so nervous by a dream, but he couldn't help his thoughts wandering to the safety of his manservant. Normally, he allowed it to fill him with dread until morning came and Merlin showed up, alive and well, to wake him for a day's work.

Arthur ascended the short steps and gently pushed the door open enough for him to peer in. The source of his worry was lying there on his stomach, one arm dangling over the side of the bed. His short hair stuck all over his head and his threadbare blanket was pushed down to his waist.

He was so still that Arthur nearly came closer to check that he was breathing, but his keen eyesight caught the gentle rise and fall of Merlin's back beneath the ratty old nightshirt the servant had probably owned since arriving in Camelot.

His anxiety eased for the moment, Arthur allowed his eyes to wander the rest of the room. He was amused, as always, at the mess that someone with so few belongings could manage to make. It didn't matter how many years passed nor how much wiser and mature Merlin had grown (not that Arthur would admit to that); one fact always remained: Merlin was an absolute slob.

"Sire?"

Arthur had not noticed the silence that had filled the chambers when Gaius's snoring had stopped, but the physician was now sitting up in his bed, looking rather perplexed at his unanticipated company. Arthur gave Merlin one last look-over to be sure that he was still sleeping and quietly pulled the door shut. Pushing aside his embarrassment, he cleared his throat and approached Gaius. "I'm sorry to wake you so late at night."

"Is something the matter, my lord?"

"I..." Arthur folded his arms over his chest and looked at the floor. "I came to see you."

"Have you had another vision?" Gaius asked sagely.

Arthur frowned, uncomfortable with the way Gaius termed his dreams. 'Vision' was much more perturbing than 'nightmare.' It implied that there was some truth in what he was seeing night after night, a theory that Gaius seemed to acquiesce in more with each one.

Arthur had been incredulous at the suggestion not even a week earlier that his nightmares had anything to do with magic, but Gaius had been so sure. He had heard rumors of mortal humans who had used magical relics, such as the Horn of Cathbhadh, and were left marked by their magic. As it was, Gaius insisted, the Horn was one of the most powerful items that remained of the Old Religion, and he had suspected that Arthur had been affected after the incident with Uther. It had so happened once before that a young girl had been afflicted with terrible visions of the future after a trip to the Spirit World. Each of them had come true and she was driven mad by them.

The king met the eyes of his physician. "There was something new in this one, Gaius."

The old man's eyebrow shot up and he looked over at his ward's closed door. They had agreed to keep the visions from Merlin, who was rather superstitious in the best of times. There was no need in winding him up just yet without any evidence.

"He's asleep," Arthur assured him.

Gaius stood from his bed. "What did you see?"

"Mostly the same as I have been, but Morgana was there in the end, only for a moment. She was laughing at Merlin and called him Emrys, whatever that is. And somehow, I could sense that she was angry with him. She was surprised to discover something about him."

"That is... disquieting. If Morgana is involved, it can only spell trouble for Merlin."

"And visions of his death don't already?" Arthur asked. "Do you have any idea what this Emrys is or why it would upset Morgana so?"

"I'm afraid that I do not," Gaius said with a shake of his head. "Was there anything else in the dream that might help?"

"Actually, there was. I am sure that I was under Morgana's control, that my actions were not of my own volition. She forced me to kill him."

"I have no doubt you are right."

Arthur nodded pensively. "Gaius, you truly believe that these are visions of the future?"

"Yes, of _a_ future, my lord." Gaius set a hand on his king's arm. "Perhaps not the only future. Not all things are carved in stone."

Arthur nodded and squared his shoulders. "Then there is one thing we can do. The knights and I will ride out tomorrow."

"Sire?"

"We have a witch to kill."


	2. In which Arthur leaves Merlin behind

**Thank you so much for the reviews on the prologue. I didn't know what to expect with my first fanfic, and I truly appreciated hearing from everyone who commented! I'm pleased that people are interested in the story.**

**To answer a question that was brought up: Yes, Merlin has seen the vision in "Arthur's Bane." Anything that happened before the end of "The Death Song of Uther Pendragon" is relevant to this story. In fact, you will see Merlin's vision play a role in later chapters. If you peer through the cracks, you may even notice it earlier.**

**This story is going to be in Arthur's perspective. He is a bit of an unreliable narrator because, as we know, he is ignorant to a significant part of who Merlin is. My hope is that I can portray Arthur coming to truly know Merlin from a place of understanding, i.e., in Merlin's shoes as the protector guided by magically-gained knowledge of the future. As I go on, I truly appreciate any feedback in your reviews.**

**I hope to post at least one chapter each weekend. Happy reading and please share your thoughts on the chapter :)**

* * *

The first time Arthur had dreamt of killing Merlin, he had woken in quite a state, startling Guinevere with his loud cry. After hushing his wife back to sleep, he had spent the rest of the night awake, staring at the ceiling.

It had not been a long nightmare, just fragments of sounds and images. The flash of a sword, a cry of pain, blood dripping and desperate apologies whispered to the man dying in his arms. Reason told him that the dream was just that — a dream — but even on that first night, he'd been filled with a deep sense of foreboding.

By the time Merlin had arrived with his breakfast, Arthur had felt too nauseous to do much more than pick at his food. He'd anxiously watched Merlin move about the chamber, picking up discarded pillows and clothing as if nothing was wrong and Arthur had not murdered him in the night. The staring had apparently unnerved his servant a bit.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," Merlin had teased.

Arthur hadn't had the nerve to say that it felt a bit like he had, because the sick feeling in his gut told him that Merlin was a dead man, or at least would be quite soon. Instead of unloading his worries, Arthur had promptly sent Merlin off to muck out the stables and out of his sight.

At least Merlin's indignant grumble of "turnip head" on his way out had made him feel slightly more normal for the moment and a mountain of reports had diverted his attention for the rest of the day.

After his second dream of Merlin's death, Arthur had felt immense guilt. What kind of man was he, after all, if he repeatedly dreamt of killing his closest and most loyal friend? The guilt had only grown with Gaius's shared suspicions about these visions. It had gotten to a point where Arthur was nervous to be in the same room with Merlin for fear of becoming suddenly murderous toward the man.

So Arthur would lie awake in bed, waiting for Merlin to arrive in one piece each morning, and then would promptly send him away where he would be safe.

This morning, however, Arthur did not wait for Merlin's arrival to start his day. He was dressed, fed and seeking out his most trusted knight before Merlin would even have rolled out of bed (late as usual).

Arthur was relieved to find Sir Leon alone on his way to the armory.

"Good morning, Sire," Leon said with a bow of his head upon the king's approach.

"Sir Leon." Arthur nodded. "I wanted to discuss the patrol schedule with you. When is the next shift out to the border of Gedref due to depart?"

According to scouts along the border, Morgana had last been spotted entering Gedref. Camelot had warned King Rodor to be vigilant for any signs of the priestess, and the king allowed Camelot's knights to join his in the search.

"This afternoon," Leon said. "We've doubled the men."

"Good. Now I need you to take those men off the patrol."

Leon appeared confused. "Sire?"

"I require a small group of my most trusted knights. I will be taking you, Sir Gwaine, Sir Percival and Sir Elyan only. We will ride out at midday."

"Are we meeting with King Rodor? Surely we can manage this and still send out the regular patrol."

"No. I am joining you on a patrol to the area."

Leon frowned. "You wish to go with only four knights? I do not mean to question you, Sire, but Gedref is extremely dangerous right now and—"

"We cannot travel with a large group," Arthur interrupted. "I do not wish to draw attention to our patrol. Should we have an opportunity to vanquish Morgana, we will need the element of surprise on our side."

"You wish to go after Morgana?"

Arthur ignored the question. "Three hours, Leon. Tell the others to be ready. We will meet at the stables." He gave his knight a nod and began to walk away. Before turning the corner, he glanced back. "And prepare for a long 'patrol.'"

* * *

"But Arthur, why must _you_ go on this trip?" Guinevere asked worriedly. "Morgana is more dangerous than ever."

The King and Queen of Camelot stood in an empty corridor near the council chamber. Arthur had sought his wife out to say goodbye before before his departure.

"I must defend my kingdom," Arthur told her. "How can I leave Nemeth to fend against her? How can I send my men out there to search for my sister while I sit high on a throne? She is my responsibility."

"And she has power that you do not, Arthur. You cannot go with so few knights."

"Yet I must. This situation is delicate and I need the men I trust most." Arthur took her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "Guinevere, I have not been entirely honest with you about my worries this past week."

"I know," she said, "but I didn't want to push you. I believed that you would tell me when you were ready."

"I am now." He pressed the knuckles of her fingers to his lips and rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. "I have had a recurring nightmare for the past eight nights. In this dream, Merlin dies."

Guinevere's chocolate eyes filled with sympathy. "Is this why you have been so distant? You've been worrying about Merlin? I know that you both had a close call in Ismere but—"

"I have been worrying about what I might do to Merlin."

The queen's brow furrowed. "Whatever do you mean?"

Arthur found he could no longer meet her eyes. "Guinevere, I have dreamed that I kill him."

"And because you dreamed it, it must be true? Oh Arthur, you know you would never harm Merlin. He's your best friend."

Without Merlin around to hear it, Arthur made no effort to deny the claim. "If only it were so simple, but these dreams are too strange. They are nothing that I have experienced before, and Gaius and I both fear that they are premonitions. Exposure to magic can apparently cause such things to happen, and after we used the Horn of Cathbhadh I may have made myself vulnerable to visions."

"Arthur, it's ridiculous. You wouldn't kill Merlin."

"Morgana would. Somehow, she will have me under her control and she will force me to take Merlin's life unless I do something to prevent it happening."

"And that's why you must go?" Guinevere said. "Will you kill her?"

"Without hesitation," Arthur said solemnly.

"Then, this isn't just about Camelot." Guinevere stroked her husband's cheek with a gentle hand and offered a sad smile. "Only you, Arthur Pendragon, would take on the greatest enemy of your kingdom to save the life of a single servant."

"They are hard to come by," he joked half-heartedly.

"Especially ones like Merlin," she said. "He's quite irreplaceable."

"That he is," Arthur agreed.

"Then, I suppose I grant you my blessing, my lord. Just be safe."

He gave her a half smile before leaning in to kiss her. "I promise to return to you," he said.

"And I will hold you to that promise." She kissed him again before pulling away.

* * *

On his way back to his chambers, Arthur considered his conversation with Gaius the night before. The old man, like Merlin, was quite superstitious at times and had seemed apprehensive about Arthur's plan to search for Morgana.

_"Sire, you must be careful," Gaius warned. "Meddling with prophecies and visions of the future should not be taken lightly."_

_"I assure you that I do not make light of this situation," Arthur said, "nor do I enter into this course without caution."_

_"I fear it is not so simple. Often, the actions taken to prevent what is foretold are the very actions that lead to its happening. I have seen it on many occasions in my lifetime. Knowing one's future is not always to one's advantage."_

_"But why would I be seeing this future if I'm not meant to stop it, Gaius?"_

_The old physician sighed. "I suppose only time will tell, Sire, but take heed that seeking Morgana could put you and Merlin in grave danger."_

_"Then Merlin shall go nowhere near my sister."_

Even without Gaius's warning, Arthur couldn't imagine dragging Merlin along on this particular quest. If Morgana wanted to kill Merlin, Arthur was not about to deliver him to her. The problem, of course, would be explaining this to Merlin without telling him about the visions.

When Arthur pushed through the doors of his bedchamber, Merlin was still there. A basket of clothing to wash sat beside the door and the leftover dishes from the queen's breakfast had been neatly stacked on the table. The servant, however, was staring out of Arthur's window and into the courtyard. The dark-haired man's eyebrows were furrowed — whether in worry or concentration, Arthur did not know — as he watched the people below.

"Busy with chores, I see," Arthur said.

Merlin turned around and grinned. "Hello, Sire," he greeted cheerfully before pretending to dust the windowsill with the rag in his hand. "You were up early this morning."

"No, Merlin, you were just late as usual and I chose not to wait for once."

Merlin shook his head but did not drop the smile. "You know there are plenty of people who are able to get out of bed without any help."

Arthur joined him at the window, curious about what had caught his friend's eye. "Yes, and I also know for a fact that you are not one of them. Gaius still has to wake you to assure you are only mildly late each day."

Merlin chuckled. "Someone seems a bit moody today. Perhaps you should have gotten more sleep?"

"No amount of sleep will ever prepare me for your mindless chatter," Arthur complained. Below them in the courtyard, it seemed a patrol led by Sir Gareth had just arrived back. Galahad and Mordred had already dismounted their horses and appeared to be in the midst of a light-hearted conversation. A small group of peasants was passing through, among them an attractive young maidservant whom Arthur had noticed talking happily with Merlin on more than one occasion. Gwaine was quite obviously flirting with one of her companions.

"Yes, well, I wouldn't expect a prat like you to be able to keep up with me, anyway," Merlin joked. "What had you up so early today?"

Arthur turned away from the window. "Business that needed attending."

"If I had known, I could have served your breakfast earlier. There was far too much food for just Gwen this morning."

Arthur arched an eyebrow at the empty dishes on the table. "She seems to have successfully finished it."

"Yes, well, she may have ordered me to join her for breakfast."

"I'm sure you were pained to obey."

"It wasn't exactly Mary's best cooking," Merlin mused. "Of course, that's better than Gaius's any day."

Arthur sighed. "Merlin, I need you to pack my belongings for patrol. I leave with some of the knights this afternoon."

"I didn't know you had scheduled yourself on a patrol today."

"That's because I only just scheduled it."

"Oh." Merlin shrugged and grabbed a leather bag that had been tossed in the corner — not a proper place for such a bag unless you had Merlin for a servant "organizing" your belongings. He opened the wardrobe and scanned the clothing inside. "Where to, then?"

"Gedref," Arthur said casually.

Merlin frowned and looked at the king. "Why are we going that way? Bit close to where Morgana was last spotted, isn't it?"

"Just let me worry about that, _Mer_lin. Don't you have some packing to do?"

Merlin rolled his eyes and threw one of Arthur's shirts into the bag.

"Do take care to fold that a bit neater. Not all of us want to go around in rumpled clothing like you do."

"You know, I would have more time to take care with your things if you weren't constantly deciding to go off on trips with no warning. I'm so busy rushing to prepare for spontaneous patrols and hunts and whatever else you come up with that I don't know how you expect me to keep straight your belongings, let alone my own."

Arthur gave Merlin a dubious look. "Oh, don't go on like that. I have seen the state of your bedchambers. Neatness is lost on you."

Merlin huffed indignantly — of course, Arthur knew he wasn't truly all that offended — and resumed packing. "Is there at least a reason for this trip?"

"Yes, in fact, there is a very good reason."

"And what's that?" Merlin asked in a sing-song voice as he draped Arthur's red cloak over a chair.

"You."

The servant looked up, confused. "Me? What have I got to do with your patrol?"

"Well, I just _so_ enjoy your sour moods that I thought, 'Why not plan an impromptu trip to really get under Merlin's skin?'" Arthur said.

Merlin pressed his lips together as he always did when Arthur knew he was trying to conceal a smile. "Very funny, Sire," he mumbled with feigned annoyance as he turned back toward the wardrobe.

Arthur watched as Merlin finished packing the bag — quite slowly and deliberately, he noticed with exasperation — and set about straightening the already-made bed. Merlin looked pointedly at Arthur as he meticulously smoothed out a wrinkle in the bed.

Arthur refused to take the bait. He was too busy considering how best to break it to Merlin that he was to be left behind. The man traveled everywhere with him and was surely expecting to accompany the king and his knights. Arthur knew that, despite all of his grumbling and protests about prat kings, Merlin would be hurt by his exclusion, but it was too dangerous to take him along. He shouldn't be anywhere near Arthur when he went after Morgana. It would risk the realization of his visions.

"If everything is _un-_rumpled to your liking, Sire," Merlin said insincerely, "I'll be off to gather the provisions we will need."

Arthur pretended to scrutinize the bed before giving Merlin an unimpressed look. "Well, I suppose it's a good thing you will have the next few days to actually get this place appropriately straightened up. Really, Merlin, must it take you twice as long as an average servant to tidy up a room? And do work on your own chambers as well. It's a wonder how you find a shirt to wear each day in all that chaos."

Apparently, Merlin was not taking any bait either. He frowned. "The next few days?"

"Yes," Arthur said as he moved across the room to sit at his desk, "while the knights and I are on patrol."

When Merlin did not respond, Arthur started to peruse one of the documents on his desk.

"You mean I'm not going with you?"

Arthur sighed guiltily as he met his eyes. "Not this time."

"Are you sure you can survive a few days without me?" Merlin said with an impish look, though Arthur saw the hint of apprehension in his eye. "While I appreciate the time off, I think you would be hopeless if I stayed here. You might starve and god knows your trousers will end up the wrong way."

"I am sure I will manage. You're staying."

There was silence for a long moment before Arthur tore his gaze away. He shuffled papers around without actually reading any.

"Arthur, have I done something?"

The king did not look up. "Well, you certainly have not done any productive work, if that's what you mean."

"To offend or bother you," Merlin clarified.

"No more than usual. Why do you ask?"

"For the past week you have had me up to my ears in ridiculous, unnecessary chores for no apparent reason. In all my years of service, I don't believe anyone has ever swept the dungeons, yet you've had me do it twice in one week. I'm starting to think you're just finding creative new ways to send me away for the day. And now you're going on a patrol without me when I can't remember the last time you so much as had a picnic without requiring my services. I'm all for you becoming more independent — knowing how to dress yourself is a useful skill, after all — but I've honestly given up hope on that dream. So the only thing I can figure is that you're cross with me for some reason."

"I am not cross with you."

"Are you sure?"

Arthur rolled his eyes and looked up. "Would you like me to be cross?"

"No, not particularly." Merlin shifted his feet uncomfortably. "I would like to know why I am staying behind, though."

"The patrols have become more dangerous. They are no place for a defenseless servant."

"I'm not defenseless," Merlin said petulantly, "and I'm not afraid."

"There is a fine line between bravery and foolishness. It is not safe for you and I will not put your life at risk."

"Never stopped you before."

"This is not open for debate."

Merlin folded his arms over his chest. "You're going after Morgana, aren't you?"

"It's a routine patrol, Merlin. Don't be so overdramatic."

"If Morgana is near there, I should—"

"Be here in Camelot, where I know you are safe," Arthur interrupted him.

"It is my job to protect you."

"It is your job to _serve_ me, Merlin, not die for me." He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. "You will not be going and I will hear no further arguments. Go gather the provisions and ready the horses."

A moment later, he listened to Merlin stomping out and shutting the door. Arthur knew that Merlin was upset with him, but he would just have to explain it all to him after he stopped Morgana. If he told Merlin about it now, the idiot would probably just follow the "patrol" and get himself killed.

Arthur was not surprised when, two hours later, he arrived at the stables to find five horses readied with all provisions and Merlin nowhere to be seen. Surely, he was off sulking somewhere, but at least he was safe.

The stablehand Tyr handed off the horses to Arthur and his knights and bid them safe patrolling.

"Merlin running late again?" Gwaine asked as he mounted his horse and looked around for Arthur's constant shadow.

"He won't be joining us on this one," Arthur said. "Come on, then. Let's be on our way."


	3. In which Gwaine is a dreadful gossip

**Hello everyone! Thank you very much to all who reviewed the last chapter. I really appreciate the kind words.**

**This chapter is shorter than I had planned, but I decided to make the part that follows into the next chapter. It felt too out of place in this one. Unfortunately, that means there is not really action in this chapter. I wanted this one to be about Arthur learning something non-magical about Merlin, but I'm not too happy with how it's turned out. I found it rather difficult writing banter among the knights when I kept wanting to jump ahead and work on chapters with Merlin in them. I really wish I could write linearly but, alas, inspiration just does not strike that way. So I am very sorry if this chapter seems a bit rushed. **

******As some of you pointed out in your reviews, Merlin never does as he is told, and I have been working on chapters from his perspective to tell that story. ****I will probably be posting it as a companion piece once I have gotten further into this story. I don't want to post it now and ruin anything that is coming up, but I will let you all know when I am planning to post it as a separate story. **

**Please read and review :)**

* * *

The ride out of Camelot began in an unusual silence. Normally when the group set out on a patrol together, Merlin would be complaining or teasing Arthur about one thing or another and Gwaine would eventually start bragging about this or that happening in the tavern the night before. This day, however, no one made jokes or struck up light-hearted conversation. Leon rode alongside his king but did not attempt to engage him the way Merlin always would. The other three knights were oddly quiet behind them. Arthur wondered if they all suspected the importance of their trip and were perhaps waiting for him to explain it.

Unfortunately, this meant that Arthur had time to dwell on his nightmares and the task that lay ahead of him. He had thought that leaving Merlin behind would ease the wariness caused by Gaius's warning, but he still feared the possibility that his actions would damn his friend. Morgana was extremely powerful and Arthur could sense that Merlin's secret — whatever it may be — would completely unhinge her.

Of course, that brought to question what exactly the secret was. It was difficult to imagine that Merlin had any sort of secret that could infuriate Morgana so greatly. Even more bothersome was that it must have been kept from Arthur as well. He wondered if any of his knights knew. Had Merlin perhaps divulged confidential information to Gwaine or Percival on one of their tavern trips? Should Arthur ask them if they knew what an Emrys was?

Arthur really wished he understood what was so important that it could turn Merlin into his sister's most hated enemy. The bad blood between the Pendragon siblings was strong — surely Merlin's couldn't death couldn't be worth more to Morgana than his own.

About an hour into the ride and Arthur's silent musings, Gwaine broke the silence. "Did you and Merlin have a quarrel?"

His question was not exactly what Arthur would have liked to break him from his dark thoughts. "No, we have not quarreled."

"He is ill, then?" Gwaine asked.

Arthur, confused by his knight's line of questioning, turned his head to look at him. "As far as I know, Merlin is perfectly well."

"So why is he not traveling with us?"

"Because I do not require his services."

Gwaine nodded his head thoughtfully, as if the matter was settled. "Ah. Then it was a quarrel."

"It was not a quarrel!" Arthur snapped.

"He barely leaves your side," Gwaine pointed out, "but I haven't seen the two of you in the same place in about a week."

"Not all of his chores require that he follow me around, Sir Gwaine."

"They do when you travel."

Arthur clenched his jaw and chose not to respond. Unfortunately, Gwaine was not content to ride on in silence.

"Is there any particular reason you chose to ride out on this patrol, Princess?"

"If Morgana has been seen in the area of Gedref, I would like to investigate the trail myself," Arthur told him.

"And we wouldn't be planning to go after her, would we?"

"We are not seeking her out. It is just a routine patrol."

"A routine patrol without Merlin," Gwaine amended.

"We will hardly have time to miss him with you prattling on, will we?" Arthur said.

"I think we may miss him come dinner time."

"You can't top his rabbit stew," Percival said.

"Or his vegetable stew," Elyan added.

"His venison stew is rather tasty," Gwaine said.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Am I to be subjected to your lamenting the absence of Merlin's cooking the entire trip?"

"He does work some magic with stew."

"Well, at least he is good for _something_," Arthur said.

"Now give him some credit," Gwaine said. "He's also good company on these patrols, especially when you're feeling particularly surly."

Arthur fixed the knight with a reproachful look, but Gwaine only raised an eyebrow as if to indicate the king had just proven his point. With a sigh, Arthur decided to switch tactics. "I imagine he would be quite surly with you today had he come with us."

"And why's that?" Gwaine asked dubiously.

"I caught Merlin sulking in my bedchamber this morning while he watched you charming some of the castle servants out in the courtyard. I've noticed Merlin talking to the one quite a bit recently and don't think he appreciated your attentions on her and her friends."

Gwaine tilted his head and frowned. "Surely you don't mean Adalind?"

"Is she the pretty little red-haired one from the kitchens?"

Both Gwaine and Percival laughed.

"What is so funny about that?" Arthur asked, glancing around at his men. "Aside from the obvious being that Merlin is utterly hopeless with women."

Leon shrugged, probably the knight least familiar with anything going on among the castle staff. The rest of the knights, however, had not been born of higher status than any of the servants and were well acquainted with them. All of them, even Elyan, appeared to be quite amused.

"She fancies Merlin," Gwaine said, "but I hardly think he's noticed her affections."

"He has seemed friendly enough with her," Arthur said.

"Merlin is friendly with everyone, especially when they're going out of their way to sneak him Mary's dumplings!" Gwaine grinned. "Of course, he's completely oblivious and thinks she is just being nice. Poor girl."

"How do you know this?"

"Well, I'm quite... friendly, if you will, with her mate Rebecca. She said that Adalind has been completely besotted with him ever since she arrived in Camelot a few months back. She isn't the first and probably won't be the last."

"You mean to say that more than one female has taken an interest in _Merlin_?" Arthur asked incredulously. "Are you sure we are discussing the same servant? The Merlin I know is a bumbling fool!"

"He is also kind and good humored. Women like that. And I suppose some find his clumsiness endearing. Adalind certainly does."

"A peasant girl could do worse than the king's personal manservant and apprentice to the court physician," Leon reasoned.

"He was good enough for Gwen once."

Leon looked mortified. "Gwaine!" he hissed.

But his warning was too late to prevent Arthur's furious reaction. "What is this about my wife?!"

Gwaine seemed unperturbed by the fearful glances of his fellow knights or the threatening glare of his king. "Just that I hear she was quite smitten with Merlin when he first arrived in Camelot."

"And _where_ do you hear such ridiculous things?" Arthur was sure his face must be completely red with anger.

No one spoke up but their eyes had all shifted to the eldest knight, who looked extremely uncomfortable.

"_Sir Leon_?"

"I... It was just tavern talk, Sire. You know the kind of rumors that go around. It's unimportant."

"Whatever tavern talk you heard was _wrong_, because I recall quite clearly that it was Merlin who had an infatuation," Arthur said. "The idiot tried to confess to sorcery to save her life once."

"Are you jealous?" Gwaine accused. "If it makes you feel any better, I am certain that Merlin had no idea of her affections—"

"Because there were none!" Arthur looked to Elyan for corroboration, but his brother-in-law appeared quite interested in the path ahead of them.

"He wouldn't recognize a woman flirting with him if she asked him to father her children," Gwaine said. "So no harm done. Unless you're Adalind, of course."

"Or Cecilia," Percival said helpfully.

"Or Ysabel."

"Or Catlyn."

"There can't really be that many women attracted to Merlin!" Arthur exclaimed. "For heaven's sake... It's Merlin!"

"You underestimate him frequently, Princess," Gwaine said.

Arthur scowled. "So why hasn't he courted anyone yet?"

"Because he's _Merlin_. He has no idea how to woo a woman. If he actually knew any were interested in him, he wouldn't know what to say to them anymore." Gwaine grinned at Percival. "You remember that night at the tavern when we told him about Mildred's fondness for him? And then he tried to sweet-talk her?"

Percival chuckled and shook his head.

Gwaine looked cheerfully back at the king. "Milly must have thought he'd gone mad, he made such a fool of himself. Apparently ale does nothing to ease his nerves with women."

The rest of the men joined in on the laughter and Arthur smirked. That sounded much more like the Merlin he knew, which made him feel a bit better.

"I do think he had a girl once, though," Percival said thoughtfully once the laughter had died down.

"Really?" Gwaine asked.

The taller knight shrugged. "Can't be sure. He mentioned a Freya once over a tankard of ale, though."

"Where was I?"

"I think you were busy charming the barmaid at the time," Percival said. "He didn't say much and didn't really seem to want to talk about it. Must have ended badly."

"A girl back in his village, do you think?"

Arthur shook his head. "I have been to Ealdor more than once and have never met a woman named Freya. Merlin didn't seem particularly interested in any of the women in his village either."

"I don't recognize the name from Camelot."

"You cannot know the name of every person in Camelot."

"Not every person... but every woman?" Gwaine did not wait for any of the men to negate him. "I plan to ask around, regardless."

"You could just let it be," Leon suggested. "Merlin deserves his privacy if he wants it."

"Nonsense! He knows of all my conquests."

"Everyone knows the sordid details of those affairs," Leon said. "Whether we want to or not. Fortunately, Merlin is far more modest than you."

Gwaine ignored the others' warnings. "If this Freya is not from Camelot, he must have met her on one of the trips he went on with us."

His theory then inspired stories of their adventures with the king and his servant.

Arthur remained quiet for the rest of the surprisingly long conversation about Merlin — tales of him helping a friend out of a scrape, of his clumsiness, of his good heart and good humor. Though he chuckled and even smiled fondly at a few of the stories, Arthur's sense of foreboding built with each tale. He could not help but think that if his men only knew where they were going and why, they would not continue to sing his praises so lightheartedly. As he listened to their tales, all he heard was Merlin's eulogy.

A eulogy concluded with Morgana's cackle echoing in Arthur's head.

_"The mighty Emrys — felled by a sword of a foolish king."_


	4. In which Merlin is always alright

**Thank you again to everyone who reviewed and who had added this story to an alert or favorite list. I really appreciate it and am glad to read that people are enjoying the story.**

**I am sorry to have taken longer to post this chapter. Our family dog passed away last week, so I didn't feel up to finishing it. It's a bit shorter than most of the chapters will be. I cut out some more Gwaine banter and silliness (perhaps I will write it and supplement the chapter later on) but I decided to put something up rather than make everyone wait another week.**

**I'm excited to get to the next chapters (Merlin will be showing up very soon). I've been hopping around a bit in the story, so I have most of chapters 8-15 written. Once I get to them, I may post more than one a week.**

**Please read and review!**

* * *

Arthur sat on the trunk of a fallen tree, staring into the fire in the middle of the campsite. The night was mild, though the wind added a bit of a chill to the air. He paid it no attention as he mulled over the troubling thoughts in his head.

He and his men had made camp just before nightfall. In Merlin's absence, they'd divided his usual tasks amongst the knights and had learned that Percival's unfortunate cooking was no substitute for Merlin's — a fact Gwaine had bemoaned rather obnoxiously. The men had teased Percival relentlessly and declared a reluctant Leon to be in charge of their breakfast the next morning.

Arthur had kept mostly to himself while the men joked around and went about their tasks. At the moment, Gwaine and Percival were off to clean the dishes while Leon and Elyan took care of the horses. It offered the king a welcome moment of quiet to consider the next step of his admittedly half-baked plan to rescue Merlin from a terrible fate.

He did not know how they were to even find Morgana. Various attempts in the past had proven unfruitful, even with tips and sightings, and the last time his men had found her, she'd imprisoned and enslaved an entire patrol.

So what hope did a king and four knights have of locating and defeating her now? Even if she was weakened from the wound Mordred had delivered, she still had incredible powers and a dragon on her side.

"Sire?"

Arthur looked up to see that Leon had come to join him on the fallen tree trunk. He hadn't even noticed the knight approaching him.

"Is something bothering you?" Leon asked. "You seem troubled."

"A great many things weigh on my mind." Arthur sighed. "I worry."

"What about?"

"The decisions I have made as a king... and decisions I have made as a friend."

"Is this about leaving Merlin behind?" Leon wondered. "I take it he was unhappy with you — Heaven knows the boy is always at your heels."

Arthur pursed his lips and shook his head. "He pitched a right fit about it."

"Just give him some time and he will understand. You are only concerned for his safety, Arthur. These are dangerous times and a patrol is no place for an unarmed servant."

Leon had no idea just how on-target his guess had been, Arthur thought. Of course, he could not know the extent of the threat to Merlin. After all, no one would expect that Morgana sought to harm the king's servant of all people.

"Do you think ill of me for dragging him along every other time we leave Camelot?" Arthur asked. "We've been attacked many times."

"I think Merlin is much better in dangerous situations than most people would expect," Leon said. "He always comes out alright, Sire. He's even saved our necks from time to time."

"It is strange how he always pulls through... even in the most dire situations. In fact, I often forget to worry about him. I suppose I take for granted that he is always alright. Sometimes it's easy to forget that he is just an ordinary citizen of Camelot."

"Merlin is far from ordinary."

"How do you figure that?"

"Do you know any other servants who would willingly follow their masters to face a dragon? Or brave the Dorocha? His courage and loyalty to you rivals that of even your most worthy knights." Leon added a piece of wood to the flames and wiped his hands on the front of his trousers. "Strange man, that Merlin. Good man."

Arthur chuckled. "Don't go telling him that or he'll get a big head. He's insufferable enough as it is... But you are right."

"I do wonder what trouble he will get into when he is not following you around," Leon sighed.

"Probably wasting his time in the tavern," the king joked, though he knew Merlin would not be there. He often wondered if Gaius was lying every time he accused Merlin of spending the day drowned in a tankard of ale, but he had never questioned either the physician or his ward on the matter. He had far too much fun criticizing and punishing the servant for his supposed trips to the tavern, and he was more than a little wary of finding out what could possibly be worth lying to him.

Of course, that was the problem now, wasn't it? Merlin's secret keeping could lead to his death.

"Merlin will be fine," Arthur said. "He always is."

He knew he was probably trying to assure himself more than Leon.

* * *

_The world was strangely dim and gray as Arthur tried to assess his surroundings. His head felt rather heavy where it rested on the ground and his limbs tingled as they roused back to life. Everything sounded a bit like he was hearing with his head under water, but that couldn't possibly be right — he was breathing and decidedly dry._

_Just as he was about to resign himself to sleep, a cry pierced through the haziness of his mind. _

_Merlin. He was in danger. He was in pain. He needed Arthur._

_The king pushed himself up with shaking arms and gazed around at his surroundings. Color slowly seeped back into the picture and he saw Morgana crouched over a body a few meters away. The witch held the hilt of a dagger embedded in the shoulder of her unfortunate victim._

_It took Arthur a moment to connect the screams with the body, but then he saw a familiar pair of boots and looked around his sister to see Merlin's bloodied face._

_Merlin seemed even less alert than Arthur — whether due to the pain from the dagger or the head wound that leaked blood over his right temple, Arthur did not know — but his cries of pain were sharp and loud. His eyes were squeezed tight and his arms were fighting against an unseen force that pinned them to the ground. If Arthur had to guess, Morgana was using magic to restrain Merlin._

"_Does it hurt, Emrys?" Morgana sneered triumphantly. _

_Merlin's eyes opened just a fraction, but there was plenty of defiance in his glare. "Go... to... hell."_

_Morgana laughed into the air and leaned closer to him. Her words were lost on Arthur, but Merlin's bellow as she twisted the dagger was not._

_Arthur pushed himself upright and reached for his fallen sword. "Do not touch him, Morgana," he warned._

_The witch turned to face him with a cruel smile. "Arthur. So nice of you to join the party." Her eyes flashed gold and the scene changed._

_Arthur found himself in the familiar scenario of Merlin trapped against that tree. Instead of the dagger impaling Merlin, it was Excalibur, and Arthur was the person harming him._

"_Arthur," Merlin gasped, blood dribbling out the corner of his mouth. _

"_No, this isn't supposed to happen!" Arthur shouted. "We are changing this. You won't die. I refuse to accept this is our future._

"_Remember your promise."_

"_No, I will make you no promises, Merlin," he stubbornly told his dying servant. "There will not be a need for them. You'll see soon enough. We are going to save your scrawny hide and you can keep your promises to yourself!"_

"_Arthur..."_

"_No! _Shut up_, Merlin!"_

"_Arthur!"_

_Arthur shook his head like a petulant child. "You are going to _live_, you idiot. That is the only promise I will make to you."_

"Arthur, get up _now_! Bandits!"

Arthur's eyes snapped open and he reflexively reached for his sword. The knights were all springing to action around him at Leon's warning and the sound of someone running through the brush seemed to be getting closer to them.

In a short moment, they were all prepared for a fight, their swords pointing into the darkness beyond the trees. Arthur indicated for Gwaine and Percival to flank the intruders on either side.

For all the ruckus that was made, it did not sound like a large group of bandits coming there way. Rather, it soon became obvious that only one set of panicked, clumsy footfalls could be heard.

And Arthur had a bad feeling about it.


	5. In which Merlin rarely does as he's told

**Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed! I also very much appreciated those of you who shared condolences about my dog. You are all very thoughtful and I thank you for your kind words.**

**I don't think I really answered any questions reviewers had for Chapter 2 last time, so I just wanted to address a few here:**

**Freya will certainly be a topic of conversation again in the story, so don't fret. Merlin will get to reveal a lot of things as the story progresses. I personally hate that this never came up between Arthur and Merlin in the show, because it was such an important moment in Merlin's life. If only Arthur had discovered Merlin's magic earlier, then there would have been more time for Merlin to tell him about all the things he'd missed!**

**I also know some reviewers were concerned about Merlin being portrayed as way too oblivious about women or being too clumsy. These opinions are only coming from the knights' and Arthur's perspectives. Regarding the girls who like Merlin, I can certainly see him being at least a little bit oblivious or playing that up with them a bit. He seemed completely clueless about Gwen's crush on him in series one. Though he has grown up quite a lot since then, he also spends so much of his time serving and protecting Arthur than I imagine he might not have enough time to notice a lady's affections for him. And if he did notice them, I doubt he'd have the time to pursue much. His duty and destiny are far too important to him. So while the knights may see it as naive obliviousness, I think Merlin is just not bothering about it. I also believe he's a bit of a one-woman man — Freya and Merlin all the way :)**

**As for the clumsy person tumbling toward the knights' campsite, you'll just have to read and see ;)**

It was hardly a minute before a cry and the sounds of a struggle were heard beyond the trees. Arthur, Leon and Elyan stood ready as the listened to the other knights quickly subdue the intruder.

"Look what we've found!" Gwaine's voice called as he and Percival roughly pushed a terrified man ahead of them into the campsite clearing.

The man was roughly Leon's age though he was much shorter and stockier than any of the knights. His face filthy and a long scar ran from his left eye and across his large nose. He wore a leather vest over chain mail ands a gray tunic. Percival was holding a dagger which presumably belonged to the intruder.

"Please," the man begged in panicked voice. "You have to let me go! He's going to kill us all!"

The knights pushed the man to his knees.

"Should I know who this man is?" Arthur asked.

"He's one of the men who got away from our patrol a few weeks back," Gwaine explained, and Arthur recalled the report about the group of bandits who had outnumbered his own men. "I'd recognize that ugly face anywhere."

"The men who robbed the peasants near the border Essetir?"

"The same," Gwaine confirmed.

"What's he doing alone, then?" Arthur asked, approaching the men.

"Please," the man said again. He struggled to stand, but Percival's grip on his shoulder kept him down easily.

"The king asked a question," Percival said.

"Running," the man said. "I was running away."

"From what?" Arthur asked.

"A sorcerer!" the man cried. The word alone seemed to increase his fear and he struggled against Percival again. "Please, don't let him kill me!"

"What sorcerer? In these woods?"

The bandit nodded. "Yes, yes... He attacked 'em! I have to get away from here! He'll kill me if he catches me!"

"You will not be going anywhere until you explain yourself," the king said. "Now, who did this sorcerer attack? Were you traveling with the same men who fought my knights not three weeks ago?"

The man nodded again. "I was. We found a boy traveling alone and were... We were going to rob him and Brom — that's the fellow in charge — he wanted to rough him up a bit first. He always likes to pick on the scrawny ones and the kid was getting mouthy. We didn't get very far before the sorcerer showed up and attacked the men." He looked around at the knights imploringly. "He threw us all like we were rag dolls. Barely even flicked his hand."

"How far from here did this happen?"

"'Bout a mile back the direction I came. You shouldn't go!"

"You report that a group of known criminals and a sorcerer are in my kingdom with a defenseless man and expect us not to investigate?"

"Please release me, at least," the man begged. "I can't go back there!"

Arthur rolled his eyes but nodded to Percival. The knight relinquished his hold on the man's shoulder. "You are free to go, but you must leave my kingdom. If my men catch you in Camelot again, you will wish I had handed you to the sorcerer."

Without bothering to thank the king, the bandit scrambled to his feet and ran away desperately.

"Shame we don't have the time to deal with him," Gwaine said as the man disappeared from sight. "I suppose we are heading out?"

"How large was this group of bandits?"

"Twenty five men," Gwaine guessed. "Enough to outnumber a full patrol. Chances are they've scattered if what that man says is true."

"Let's hurry," Arthur said. "Be vigilant. Who knows if we will come across the thieves or the sorcerer first."

* * *

Arthur and the knights came across only one bandit along the way, but the man was dazed and scrambling away in a panic. Percival knocked him unconscious with the hilt of his sword and they left him where he lay. There was a greater threat to worry about.

"I see the campfire just over there," Elyan said some time later. The men dismounted their horses and followed him through the trees to a small campsite with their swords ready. A familiar brown mare was tethered to a tree and a figure was sitting on a tree stump.

Arthur's mouth went dry and his sword arm went limp at his side. He felt his stomach twist and heard Gaius's warning echo in his head. "_Often, the actions taken to prevent what is foretold are the very actions that lead to its happening." _

Perhaps, Gaius had been right, because sitting there, tending to a leg wound, was the one person Arthur feared seeing more than Morgana.

"_Merlin?_" Arthur cried.

"What are you doing here?" Gwaine asked. "What happened to you?"

The young servant gaped with wide eyes, appearing quite shaken by the arrival of his friends. He stood abruptly and nearly toppled over. "I... erm..."

Gwaine gripped his arm to steady him as he paled. "How were you injured?"

"Bandits," Merlin mumbled. "A group of bandits."

"Where is the sorcerer?" Leon asked urgently.

Merlin looked confused. "Sorcerer?"

"The one who attacked the bandits," Gwaine said. "We caught one of the men running away. He said a sorcerer had come to aid the man they were robbing."

Merlin frowned. "Oh... yeah... erm." He took a deep breath and looked around. "He left after the bandits ran off."

"Which way?" Arthur asked, his wits coming back to him.

"Arthur, just leave him be," Merlin said. "He is no danger to us."

"You are talking about a sorcerer in Camelot, Merlin!"

"He _saved_ me. Besides, you wouldn't be able to take him on if you went after him. I saw what he did to those men. They all went flying through the air."

Something about Merlin's rambling unsettled Arthur. "What did the sorcerer look like?" he asked.

"Look like?" Merlin repeated dumbly. "I didn't really get a good look at him."

"Not even a glimpse?"

"Yeah, but there was a lot going on and... I suppose he was a bit tallish."

"That's it? You can only give me a height and even that description is 'tall_ish_?'"

"Well, I was being attacked by bandits at the time, you prat! By the time I had a chance to really look at him, he was chasing after them."

"You wouldn't have been attacked by bandits if you hadn't been out here in the first place." Which, of course, brought Arthur back around to the feeling of dread that had taken residence in his stomach upon seeing his servant in the forest. And that made Arthur furious. "I cannot _believe_ you followed us after I gave you a direct order to stay in Camelot!"

"Actually, I think you said I 'should' stay behind in Camelot," Merlin pointed out. "You directly ordered me not to go on your patrol with you, and technically I did listen to your command. I was gone before you lot even saddled up, so I haven't followed you, either."

"_And just where were you going?_"

Merlin raised his eyebrows and gave an unsure smile. "I was... collecting herbs. For Gaius."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Gaius sent you all the way out here for some herbs? With a horse and a pack full of provisions?"

"Well, yes — I mean, no," Merlin stammered. "I decided that since you would be traveling for a few days, I might go visit my mother. I was already heading out and Gaius asked me to gather herbs along the way."

"Ealdor is in the other direction, Merlin," Arthur said.

Merlin laughed sheepishly. "Well, I realize my mistake _now_. You must be overworking me, Arthur. I usually have a much better sense of direction."

"Right," Arthur said dryly. "Don't suppose you could explain why you are carrying a sword and a crossbow?"

"Oh, erm, _that_..." Merlin had the decency to look quite uncomfortable as Arthur glared at him. "Arthur—"

"Did you honestly think that _you_ were going to go after Morgana?"

"I wouldn't say that, exactly..."

"You are not a warrior, Merlin!" Arthur shouted. "Did you ever stop to think that I wished for you to stay in Camelot for a reason?"

"Why's that?"

"I was trying to protect you, you idiot!"

"Did you ever stop to think that _I_ am trying to protect _you_?" Merlin shot back. "And I'm pretty sure protecting the king is a little more important than keeping a servant safe."

"How will you putting yourself in danger protect anyone?!"

"I could ask you the same thing."

"_I_ know how to properly use a sword, _Mer_lin."

"So do I," Merlin insisted.

Arthur looked unimpressed. "Did you a lot of good against those bandits, didn't it?"

"I was perfectly fine—" Merlin had started shouting, but he seemed to think better of the argument. He snapped his mouth shut and stared sourly at the ground, his nostrils flaring as he huffed.

"If you want me to be safe," Arthur said, "you won't get in my way."

"I wasn't planning to get in the way."

"If you are here, you are in my way." Arthur only allowed himself a moment to feel guilty at the anguished look Merlin gave him in response to his harsh words. "I can't very well protect myself against Morgana when I'm worrying about what she will do to you!"

Merlin knit his brows in confusion. "Why on Earth would you be worried about what Morgana will do to _me_?"

Arthur shut his eyes and sighed wearily as he ran a hand over his face. "Merlin," he said in a pleading tone.

"Come on, mate," he heard Gwaine say placatingly. "Let's get your leg taken care of while Princess cools down."

"Really, I'm fine," Merlin said quietly.

Arthur looked to find Gwaine attempting to guide Merlin to sit on the tree stump. "Merlin, _sit down_," the king commanded.

Fortunately, his disobedient servant decided to be cooperative. For once.

Gwaine knelt in front of him and pulled at the torn fabric of Merlin's pant leg. "Hm." He took out his water skin and poured some water onto the wound. "Doesn't seem too deep," he assessed before sitting back on the heels of his feet. "It looks like a superficial bleeder."

Merlin looked pointedly at Arthur. "I told you it was fine. Just a scratch."

"You have anything to staunch the flow?" Gwaine asked.

Merlin jerked his head in the direction of his fallen pack. "There should be some fresh bandages."

Elyan routed through the bag and Merlin rolled up his pant leg. He intercepted the bandages before Gwaine could take them from Elyan. "I can handle tying my own wound."

"Suit yourself."

From the look on the other knight's face, Arthur suspected Gwaine didn't appreciate Merlin's snippy responses today anymore than he did.

"Prepare your horses," Arthur ordered everyone once Merlin had finished bandaging himself. "We are heading back to Camelot once everyone is ready."

"Arthur, don't be ridiculous," Merlin objected. "You have a patrol to finish."

"Yes, and you are disrupting that patrol by forcing us to escort you home."

"Then don't escort me!"

"I'm certainly not letting you ride back alone," Arthur said. "You'll probably impale yourself on that sword you brought with you."

"I don't need an escort because I am not going back to Camelot," Merlin said stubbornly. "So you have two options here."

"And what are those?" Arthur scoffed.

"One: you let me join you for the rest of the patrol," Merlin reasoned. "Two: I head to Nemeth without you and risk impaling myself on the sword."

"See, you've entirely forgotten the third option, Merlin," the king said with false pleasantness.

The servant frowned in confusion. "Third option?"

"Yes." Arthur quickly snatched at the back of Merlin's collar and dragged him toward his mare. "We arrest you, take you back to Camelot and throw you in the stocks."

"Arthur!" Merlin yelped as he tore away from his friend's grasp. He straightened his jacket out and fixed Arthur with an affronted look. "You can't go back to Camelot without finishing this patrol."

"You don't decide that."

Merlin huffed in exasperation. "Listen, I overheard Mordred and Galahad discussing the patrol they'd just returned from, and I do not think all is well in Nemeth. Don't you think it is strange for Odin's men to be traveling so near Nemeth's border?"

"Odin's men?" Arthur looked to Leon for confirmation.

The tall knight nodded. "Yes, Sire. We did not get a chance to go over the reports in detail before we left for our own patrol, but what Merlin says is true. There was a patrol of men from Odin's lands traveling in Gedref, but they were only passing through. They did not enter our lands, nor did they cause conflict with our men."

"How large was the group?"

"About 20 men, if I heard correctly," Merlin said. "Pretty large group to just be 'passing through,' don't you think?"

"It does sound suspicious," Percival said. "Merlin's right. We can't go back to Camelot without looking into this."

Arthur was loath to agree, but they were right. With a sigh, he mounted his horse. "Come on then. The sooner we check this out, the sooner we can be back in Camelot. And Gwaine? You're in charge of the idiot. Do keep him alive, will you? Wouldn't want him to miss his date with the stocks when we get back home."


	6. In which Arthur grows suspicious

**So sorry to have taken so long to update. After some discussions with a couple of readers, I actually decided to make some changes in the direction of the story. I think the story will be much better for the changes, but I didn't want to post this chapter until I had fleshed out the ending of the story better.**

**I had initially planned to wait until I posted the companion fic to update this story, but it wasn't ready yet and I don't want to make you wait any longer. But sometime this week or the next, be on the lookout for it. The companion story will tell Merlin's point of view for certain events in this one. It is not going to be a complete retelling of this story from Merlin's point of view, though. It will be more like a collection of one-shot stories. The first chapter will be what happens immediately after Merlin leaves Arthur's chambers in the first chapter of this story. You'll get to see Merlin eavesdropping on Mordred and Gaius revealing Arthur's dreams to Merlin. I hope that will fill a lot of the gap and answer some questions many of you had. I know some of you commented about what happened with Merlin just before the knights arrive, but that won't be revealed just yet. There will be another chapter that brings Merlin up to the moment where the knights find him. Something quite crucial to the end of the story occurred in that span of time, so I can't post it just yet.**

**As always, thank you very much to all readers who reviewed or added this story to their alerts/favorites. I have especially appreciated the excellent constructive feedback which I have received. It is always taken very much into consideration as I continue this story. **

**Sorry that this chapter is relatively short but the bit following it was starting to become too long to combine with this.**

* * *

Leon approached his king as the other men got back to their horses. "Sire," he said with a respectful nod. "A word?"

"Of course," Arthur replied.

"I was wondering if there was anything more you wanted to tell me regarding our conversation from last night."

"What do you mean?"

"I know that you are worried about something happening, and I suspect that it has to do with Merlin somehow."

"You know me too well, Leon."

"So there is something?"

Arthur wasn't really sure how to explain the situation. Was he supposed to tell his head knight that he was a hypocrite? That he had dabbled with a magical device and was now channeling some sort of magic each night as he slept?

He wondered if his men would think less of him for it. Of course, Merlin knew about the Horn and his father's ghost, and he hadn't judged Arthur too harshly for it. Maybe it would be better to just tell Leon—and everyone else, for that matter—the truth about his visions.

Arthur watched as Merlin grouchily picked up his pack and ambled over to his horse. The servant's mood seemed to match Arthur's own, which annoyed the king quite a lot. Here he was trying to save Merlin's life and the man was acting like a petulant child for having been scolded.

Gwaine approached Merlin and helped untie the reins that were knotted on a tree branch. "Well, I, for one, am very glad to have you along, mate," he said. "_Very_ glad."

"Why do you say it like that?"

Gwaine sighed rather dramatically and threw an arm around Merlin's shoulders. "Percival is a _horrendous_ cook," he said solemnly.

The largest knight only appeared mildly offended, though he did protested that his stew had not been so bad.

"Don't listen to him, Merlin," Elyan agreed. "It was foul. You were sorely missed at dinner."

"You lot really are hopeless without out me," Merlin joked.

Gwaine narrowed his eyes but the smirk on his lips belied his false indignation. "We'll see who's hopeless." The arm around Merlin's shoulders suddenly formed a headlock and the knight's knuckles ground against the top of his scalp.

Merlin flailed. "Ow, Gwaine, let me go!" he objected, but Arthur could hear the laughter in his voice.

With a large grin, Gwaine released the servant and clapped him on the back. "Honestly, though... It just isn't an adventure without you, mate."

Merlin's small, bashful smile grew and he turned away, shaking his head. "You're just hoping I'll cook your breakfast."

"Well, if we did come across a rabbit or two..."

"Arthur?" Leon brought the king's attention back to him.

"Yes, Leon, there is something," Arthur confirmed. "I am not prepared to share all the details with you, but suffice it to say that Merlin is in terrible danger traveling with us."

"Then this goes beyond the typical risks of facing the Lady Morgana?"

Arthur finally broke away from watching his laughing manservant and turned his full attention back to Leon. "I wish that were all, but Morgana specifically wishes to harm Merlin. She would see him dead... probably sooner than me."

Leon's eyebrows rose, but he did not press Arthur for more details. "Why don't we just tell Merlin that? Explain why he shouldn't come."

Arthur shook his head. "Do you honestly think it would make a difference? He would only be more determined to fight her with us. He doesn't even know why I switched the patrols and he still came out here looking for her himself. What do you think would happen if he knew Morgana might be after him?"

"You are probably right. Merlin would not like us facing danger for his sake."

"So you will keep it to yourself?"

Leon nodded. "I'll keep a close eye on him, too."

"Good. I feel a bit relieved to have another understand the gravity of this situation."

"I am glad that you have shared it with me," Leon said, "but even if we do not plan to tell Merlin, there is something I think you should consider."

"And what is that?" Arthur asked.

Leon looked slightly uncomfortable as his gaze shifted toward the other men at the campsite. "I don't mean to speak out of turn or presume to offer advice where it is—"

"Just spit it out, Leon. Whatever you wish to tell me, I assure you I will not be angry."

"It's just that... Do you think perhaps you were being a bit hard on Merlin?"

"You heard the idiot. He thought he was going to take on Morgana by himself."

"It was certainly a foolish thing for him to do, but I am not surprised he followed you. He just wants to know you are safe, Arthur."

"He shouldn't have come out here."

"But he is here, now, and it would probably be best for both of you—the rest of us as well—if you weren't both cross with each other. I know that you worry about him, but you cannot be angry with him when his only offense was being too loyal to listen to you."

Too loyal. Yes, that was quite true about Merlin. Too loyal to hide while Arthur faced a dragon. Too loyal to leave Arthur to brave an evil step-troll despite his banishment. Too loyal to go to bed while Arthur kept lonely vigil beside the body of his deceased father. Too loyal to stay behind when Arthur sought Morgana. Too loyal to let Arthur face death, grief or danger alone. Too loyal to abandon Arthur to a great many things which no servant was obliged to encounter for the sake of his master.

And if Arthur's visions were true, Merlin would even prove too loyal to run when Arthur was about to kill him.

"It is also worth noting that, no matter which way you look at it," Leon added, drawing Arthur out of his worrisome thoughts, "Merlin did just survive two dozen thieves and a sorcerer without our help. He's not hopeless without us. He's certainly not hopeless with us. _And_ he even knows how to make his own breakfast."

Arthur snorted but said nothing more. Leon patted the neck of Arthur's steed and sauntered off to his own.

"Let's get moving sometime today," Arthur said to the men. "We'll find a spot a bit further and stop for breakfast before moving on. I don't want to stay here should those men decide to come back."

"I don't think that's very likely, as scared as the few we saw were," Gwaine said. "But I'll gladly leave with the promise of Merlin's cooking."

"But you were _so_ looking forward to Percival's next meal," Merlin said. "Besides, I'm not here to cook. I'm not even supposed to be here, so technically I'm on holiday. Or under arrest, depending on who you ask."

"I'm sure Merlin would be more than happy to cook your breakfast, Gwaine," Arthur said. "And I know he'd love to rub down the horses while we eat, wouldn't you Merlin?"

"I thought you said you'd manage without me?" Merlin teased. "That includes cooking, doesn't it? I see you've got your trousers on straight, so you must be capable of some level of—"

Arthur cleared his throat. "Merlin?"

Merlin raised his eyebrows as he looked at Arthur, but his eyes had crinkled in amusement. "Shut up?" he guessed.

Arthur smirked, glad that their earlier tempers seemed to have been forgiven. "Let's be on our way, men."

"Merlin, you forgot your blankets," Gwaine said.

"What?" Merlin asked. He turned back from tying his bag to the saddle of his horse with a look of bewilderment that surprised Arthur, before his eyes settled on the bedding by the burnt-out fire. Arthur recognized that it looked nothing like the usual blankets Merlin carried with him, though it appeared to be equally meager and worn.

Confused, Arthur looked at Merlin's horse to see not only his pack tethered there but also his bedroll. Arthur realized that he'd not seen Merlin put it away since they'd arrived, so it had been packed already. "Brought enough bedding for two, have you?"

"No," Merlin said slowly, frowning at the bedding for a moment. He looked up at Arthur. "It isn't mine."

"Then to whom does it belong?"

Merlin hesitated for only a second, but Arthur noted the trepidation in his eyes. "The sorcerer. This was his campsite."

"The bandit we captured made it sound as if they had attacked your campsite," Elyan said.

"He was mistaken." Merlin turned to his horse and tightened the ties on his pack. Even with his back to the other men, Arthur could make out the tension.

"How did you end up in the middle of that, then?" Arthur asked.

"Bad timing, really," Merlin explained as he mounted the mare. "I had just arrived at this campsite and was going to stay. Then the bandits attacked."

"You were going to stay in the company of a sorcerer?"

"Well, I didn't know he was a sorcerer, yet. He seemed nice enough at the time."

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "And then the bandits attacked, you say?"

Merlin merely nodded.

"Strange," the king said. "That the sorcerer should leave his belongings here to chase after the bandits once they had gone."

"Strange, indeed," Merlin said quietly.

"I thought you said you didn't have time to get a good look at the sorcerer. If you were setting up camp with him, you must have seen enough for a better description than 'tallish.'"

Merlin rolled his eyes and squared his shoulders obstinately. "I was a bit put on the spot at the time, wasn't I? I wasn't expecting you all to come barging in here and demanding to hunt down a sorcerer who saved my life."

"Then what did he look like?"

"Erm... As I said before, he was _tallish_." Merlin emphasized the word in an obvious attempt to irritate Arthur. "Young, too. 'Bout our age, I suppose. Dark hair. Lean build, but I bet he is a lot stronger than he looks. Probably spends a lot of time lugging around heavy things for lazy prats. I'd know all about that."

"My, Merlin, that is quite specific," Arthur said dryly. "Anything else you'd like to share?"

"He looked like he might have been a rather handsome fellow," Merlin added brightly.

Arthur pulled a look of distaste. "Handsome? You are such a girl. Fawning like a damsel in distress for her champion."

Merlin pursed his lips and looked quite vexed. With an indignant huff, he turned away from the king and clucked at his mare to ride past him. Behind Merlin, the knights chuckled at Arthur's joke and climbed atop their mounts.

"Well, come on," Merlin said. "Nemeth's not going to investigate itself."

It wasn't beyond Arthur's notice as they rode that Merlin looked rather determined leading the group. The king's suspicion grew as he realized Merlin was on some sort of mission and it was likely to make Arthur's job of keeping him safe much more difficult.


	7. In which dreams pervade reality

**Thank you again to all of you who have been kind enough to review and follow/favorite this story. So sorry for the delay in posting this chapter. I really have no excuse other than life running away with me! For those of you who have not seen, I have posted the companion to this story, titled "Protecting the Prat." It will be updated whenever I want to give more insight into Merlin's thoughts in this story. Hopefully, it will answer some of the questions you might have about this story. At the end, Merlin mentions a plan to Gaius. That will be a later chapter, but I do not want to post it and give too much away before the story unfolds here.**

**As far as this chapter goes, there will finally be some action. I feel the beginning is a bit rushed, but I really was not satisfied with the expanded opening scene. There has just been so much of Arthur thinking about Merlin's impending doom already and not enough of anything happening yet, so I pulled the additional scene. It was really just a bit of knight banter and didn't do anything to further the story. I may alter it to come from Merlin's perspective for "PTP," though.**

**The next chapter for this is entirely written and just requires editing, so the wait should not be so long for that one.**

**Happy reading and please review!**

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Arthur, Merlin and the knights had not gone far before settling for a quick breakfast. Arthur had not forced Merlin to rub down the horses as promised, mostly due to his amusement at hearing the other men heckle Merlin about Adalind. Merlin had turned red all the way to the tips of his ridiculous ears when Gwaine had pointed out Adalind's obvious affections for him. The blush had remained all throughout the subsequent suggestions for courting the kitchenmaid and Gwaine's good-spirited jibes about Milly. No one had broached the topic of the mysterious Freya that Percival had mentioned the day before, though, and Arthur dared not be the one to intrude on Merlin's privacy regarding the unknown girl.

Once they had all had their fill and proclaimed Merlin's stew far superior to Percival's, they consented to Leon's suggestion to split into three pairs to investigate Nemeth's border. Most of the men agreed that it would be best in order to cover more ground and quietly slip in and out of Gedref unnoticed. Arthur was more concerned that it was the best way to keep Merlin away from him and harm's way.

Of course, Merlin quite predictably had to disagree with Arthur by refusing to leave his side rather than go with Gwaine as commanded.

"I don't want to," the servant protested.

"I don't believe I gave you the choice."

"Well, I didn't come out here to take your orders, Arthur."

"I am your king, whether or not you choose to pretend that you are out here on 'holiday.' You have to listen to me, regardless."

"I never do."

And so it was that Arthur was subjected to Merlin's idle chatter as they took the western route. Arthur felt hyper-aware of his surroundings, as if expecting Morgana to appear before them from thin air and kill Merlin.

Despite Merlin's prattle, Arthur noticed that his friend was also rather tense. The brunette's hand had reached toward the hilt of his sword multiple times upon hearing noises in the woods around them. Arthur noted the strangeness of the behavior. He had seen Merlin uneasy in the past and it was typically signified by uncharacteristic silence. The king did not know what to make of Merlin's anxious movements when Merlin was still so talkative. The behaviors did not fit together in any of Arthur's past observations of the man. He wondered if, perhaps, Merlin was trying to distract him from something with the uninterrupted conversation.

Somewhere in the middle of Merlin's rant about needing to teach the lazy knights—"Former peasants!" he lamented—how to properly cook a stew, Arthur found Merlin's voice fading and their surroundings shifting.

The scene that greeted him was a familiar one, something that occurred so regularly that Arthur could not even place the particular moment in time he was seeing. Merlin was moving about Arthur's bedchambers, tidying things as he went, while Arthur paced the room and rehearsed a speech.

As Arthur stumbled over a particularly wordy line—he should really tell Merlin to make these things easier to memorize—he caught his servant's shoulders shaking out of the corner of his eye. He was certain that the younger man was laughing at him, so he abruptly stopped reciting the speech and snatched the scroll up from his desk to reread.

"I'd like to see you try memorizing these godforsaken speeches and delivering them before all of Camelot," Arthur complained.

"It's work enough preparing them for you," Merlin said. "I assure you, I don't need to read any more of it to know every word."

"We should all be so lucky."

"You could always just write your own speeches." Merlin stopped working and grinned at him. Behind Merlin, a torn jacket was mending itself in the air. Arthur noticed for the first time that his armor was similarly being polished on the table and a lone brush was scrubbing at the floor on the other side of the room. "You really need to lighten up, Arthur. A break, perhaps?"

Arthur frowned at the armor. Something seemed wrong about the sight of it, but he could not quite pinpoint the problem. "I don't have time for breaks, _Mer_lin."

"Why not?"

"Because once I am done practicing this speech, I have to figure out how to rescue my idiot manservant from a powerful sorceress."

"Two lost causes, then," Merlin said regretfully. "You may as well take that break."

"I don't accept that."

"You are going to kill me, Arthur."

Arthur frowned at his friend's nonchalance regarding his supposed fate. "I would never. I am going to stop this."

"But look," Merlin urged, "my blood is on your hands, Sire."

Arthur looked down to see a drop of blood fall from his hand onto the edge of the scroll he had been holding. Startled, he dropped the piece of parchment and stared at the bloody handprints he'd left on it as it fluttered to the floor. The moment it touched, Arthur heard the moving objects around the room fall to the ground as well.

"Arthur?" Merlin's voice was soft and weak.

The king's head snapped up just in time to see his servant topple, Excalibur deep in his midsection and his blood spilling in a puddle on the floor beneath him. "Merlin!" he cried.

"What is it?!"

It took Arthur a moment to realize that the rush of green and brown around him meant he was no longer in his chambers but in a forest. And rather than collapsed to his knees beside his fallen friend, he was riding a horse on a patrol of Gedref.

"Arthur? Arthur, are you alright?"

He turned to see Merlin riding the horse beside him. His eyes were wide with worry as he watched Arthur.

"What's wrong?" Merlin asked urgently.

Arthur looked back down at the mane of his own horse and took a deep, steadying breath. Merlin was not dead. He was alive and well and fussing over Arthur as always.

"Arthur? You are starting to worry me."

"It's nothing," the king mumbled.

"You yelled out my name," Merlin argued. "Yelled it like you were terrified."

Arthur didn't respond. This situation with the visions was beginning to get out of hand. It wasn't enough that Arthur had to suffer visions of Merlin's death each night? Now he had to have waking visions that tainted his simplest memories of Merlin.

Arthur's hand shook and he gripped his horse's reins tighter. Somehow he knew that the change in these visions did not bode well for Merlin. The warning from his dreams felt closer, as if it was looming over their heads, ready to befall his unsuspecting friend.

The enchanted objects in his vision created an additional level of unease for the king, who could not fathom what it meant. He'd felt oddly unconcerned about them at the time, as if they were commonplace. Was Arthur's newfound aptitude for magic going to grow? Would it contribute to Merlin's death?

Arthur's stomach burned when his thoughts turned to his companion, the only other person who had been present in the vision. The objects had been enchanted to do his chores. Could Merlin—

"Arthur, are you even listening to me?"

"No." Arthur heard a strange noise and strained his ears. It sounded like there was a struggle and people talking ahead of them.

"Are you going to tell me what just happened?"

"Would you please just shut up, Merlin?"

"Arthur, I—"

The king threw out his hand and hissed at the other man to be silent just as a woman's scream broke through the air.

It was followed by another voice that made Arthur's blood run cold. "Don't let her get past!"

"That sounded like Morgana," Merlin said fearfully.

Arthur quietly signaled for Merlin to dismount his horse and follow him as he crouched through the brush to hide behind a group of bushes. From their hiding place, they could see about twenty of Odin's men. Princess Mithian was held tight against the chest of a knight large enough to rival Percival while another bound her wrists in front of her. Tears tracked down her cheeks as she attempted to pull away. The villain of Arthur's nightmares stood not two meters from the princess, a smug smirk on her pale lips.

"Mithian!" Merlin gasped, and Arthur quickly covered his mouth. He gave the servant a sharp look that indicated he should just observe.

"What did you think you would do?" Morgana asked Mithian with obvious amusement. "Run to Camelot and ask them to rescue Nemeth?"

Mithian struggled against the knight's hold. "Let me go!"

"As if that could save your father now," Morgana continued. "You're fortunate that I'm feeling so generous today. I should just kill you where you stand, but Lot and I have other plans for you. You'll be seeing King Arthur soon enough. And you will even have the chance to help us take his throne."

"You're insane," Mithian spat. "I will not help you."

"As if you have a choice." Morgana nodded to the knight, and the entire company began moving back into Nemeth.

Merlin rushed to stand but Arthur grabbed his shoulder and pushed him back down. "Are you really that big of an idiot?" he hissed. "You can't go rushing in."

Merlin tried to tug his arm from the king's grasp, but the hold was too firm. "Arthur, it's _Mithian_."

"Yes, I know," Arthur said darkly. "But Morgana herself is too dangerous for just the pair of us to take on, and we would have to fight twenty of Odin's men to get to her. Clearly they have formed some sort of alliance. This is not something we alone can handle."

Merlin tugged again and reached for the sword that haphazardly dangled from his belt. "We have to do something!"

"And we will after we have regrouped with our men and formulated a plan." Arthur gave him a shove and stilled Merlin's hand on the hilt of the sword. "You are not a knight, Merlin. Even if you were, there are only two of us. What help do you expect to be to Mithian by running out and getting yourself killed or captured? There is nothing you can do right now."

Merlin's eyes blazed and he opened his mouth as if planning a retort before snapping it shut. He looked back regretfully to where the last of the group had disappeared with the struggling princess. "I don't like this one bit Arthur."

"Neither do I, but—" Arthur cut himself off as a twig snapped behind him. Both he and Merlin quickly turned to find that six of Odin's men, having been on their way to rejoin the larger ground, had discovered them and were coming with swords drawn.

"Think you can handle that sword without stabbing yourself?" Arthur asked as he unsheathed Excalibur.

"Pointy end goes in the bad guys, right?" Merlin asked, drawing his own just in time to block the first blow.

"That's the basic idea." Arthur blocked a sword and kicked out at his assailant, forcing the man onto his back. His sword was quickly engaged with the next man's. He pushed back and deftly stabbed the knight in the stomach.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a knight impaled by Merlin's sword. "You're getting it," he joked and pierced the heart of the first man he'd defended against.

"If you can do it—" Merlin ducked to avoid the sword that had been swung at his head "—I suppose anyone can."

Arthur easily dispatched the next knight who came at him and was surprised when he heard Merlin cry his name. He turned, expecting to see Merlin injured, but instead found another man fallen to the ground and the last of the knights mere inches from sinking a sword into the king's midsection.

"_Forþ fleoge!_"

The attacking knight suddenly flew ten meters through the air and landed in a heap.

Arthur found himself looking into the eyes—gold quickly fading from them—of his horrified manservant.


	8. In which Arthur learns the truth

**Thank you for reviewing, favoriting, following or even just reading the last chapter. Everyone seemed so enthusiastic about the reveal that I decided to post Arthur's reaction as soon as possible. I hope it lives up to everyone's expectations. FYI, Merlin's version of this scene will eventually be posted in "PTP." I really can't resist writing Merlin's reaction from his own perspective.**

**Please read and review!**

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"You have magic."

Merlin was frozen, gaping at Arthur with wide blue eyes like a startled deer prepared to bolt at any sign of motion.

The knight that Merlin had just thrown groaned and clumsily pulled himself from the ground. With a terrified look at the unmoving manservant, he ran away, stumbling on roots and rocks that he was too frantic to notice.

Neither Arthur nor Merlin went after him or even so much as spared him a look. Even when their horses, startled by the commotion, ran off toward Camelot, they still did not move.

Because Merlin was a sorcerer.

Silly, clumsy, carefree Merlin had magic. And, it seemed, strong magic at that. This had to be a joke.

Arthur had no idea how long they remained there but it felt like ages before Merlin looked at his feet submissively.

"You have magic," Arthur repeated dumbly.

Merlin paused, then nodded. "I always have," he whispered.

"Always?"

Another nod.

Arthur took a long, controlled breath through his nose and stepped back. "I trusted you."

"You weren't wrong to," Merlin said desperately and took a hesitant step forward.

"Stay back!"

Merlin stopped when the point of Arthur's sword came inches from his chest. "Arthur..."

But Arthur was no longer paying attention to Merlin's words. Instead, his gaze had focused on the familiar scene before him: Excalibur pointed at Merlin's chest.

_"No." Arthur's sword swung back and then thrust forward into Merlin's midsection. A laugh cut through the air as the blade found its mark, tearing deep through flesh and bone until it pinned the young servant to the tree behind him. "No!"_

_Merlin's eyes were wide with pain. "Arthur," he gasped, blood dribbling out the corner of his mouth. He brought his hands to the sword's hilt in a weak attempt to push it away._

_"I am so sorry," Arthur said, driving the sword deeper. "I'm sorry."_

Was this what led to it? All it would take was a simple thrust of Arthur's sword. Merlin seemed unwilling to defend himself, after all.

Arthur wondered if he had always been meant to discover Merlin's magic and punish him for it. But where was Morgana? Surely, she should have shown up by now to gloat in her revenge against Merlin, though Arthur still had not figured out just what she wanted revenge for.

Merlin's breathing came in shuddering breaths as he stared down at the sword that would kill him. It would be so easy to do it and rid the world of another lying sorcerer.

Yet, for all the betrayal, Arthur found he did not _want_ to kill Merlin.

"No!" he hissed. He backed away from Merlin before storming off back toward the camp. He ignored Merlin calling his name and did not turn around at the sound of the sorcerer following. He would not allow this moment to become his nightmare.

"Arthur, please, you have to listen to me," Merlin begged.

Arthur half-expected him to be running in the other direction, but running away did not suit Merlin. The fool had never possessed any sense of self-preservation; the fact that he was a sorcerer living in Camelot was evidence of that.

What did Merlin have to gain by running after Arthur now? Didn't he understand the position that he had put Arthur in? What was the king supposed to do? Sorcerers in Camelot were executed; there was no alternative sentencing and no flexibility.

Arthur found his thoughts wandering back to the visions that had been his worry for more than a week. The dread of seeing Merlin killed was still there, despite this discovery and the overwhelming betrayal. Regardless of Merlin's deeds, Arthur knew he could not bear to have him executed, even for treason.

Merlin should run, Arthur decided, before Morgana or the law sealed his fate.

"Arthur?" Merlin's voice was thick, and Arthur suspected he was near tears.

Normally, the sound would have filled him with guilt, but his head was roaring and he was furious. How dare that traitor say his name? How dare he sound so much like Merlin when Arthur now knew _that_ Merlin had never existed?

The moment Merlin's hand touched his shoulder, Arthur shouted and threw him back. He strode forward a few more paces before standing still, his back to Merlin. He shut his eyes and swallowed the lump in his throat. He felt like a complete fool. How had Merlin managed to hide in plain sight for nearly a decade, every day by his side playing the role of trusted servant? Arthur was meant to protect Camelot and his subjects from sorcerers, but he had been harboring one for years.

"Was it all a lie from the beginning?" Arthur asked, his voice dangerously quiet. "Was the bumbling fool who challenged me and then saved my life a lie?"

He heard some shuffling and a terrible noise behind him but chose not to consider that Merlin had let out a sob. "No, Arthur."

"Was the clumsiness an act?"

"It wasn't... I swear it wasn't."

"Your jokes and ridiculous insults?"

"No!"

Arthur tightened his grip on Excalibur and lifted his chin. "And what of the loyal servant who would follow me to the ends of the earth? My most trusted friend... The person I have cared for as a _brother_... Was it all just part of your deceit?"

"No, that was all me! It is _still_ me. Our friendship is real... I swear it!"

"Don't you lie to me now, sorcerer!" Arthur yelled, turning to face the traitor.

Merlin had pulled himself to his knees where Arthur had thrown him. He looked absolutely pitiful. Arthur realized that, for all his jokes about Merlin's cowardice, he had never seen the younger man truly scared. But here was Merlin now — all but cowering before him on the forest floor, hands in his lap wringing the bottom of his shirt, teary eyes fixed on the ground, bottom lip wobbling with the effort to keep from crying — the very image of fear. And still the servant did not run.

"How could you, Merlin? I trusted you, and you made a fool of me."

"Ar-Arthur, I—"

"You have looked me in the eye and lied to me for the past eight years. The least you can do now is make eye contact as you face those lies."

Merlin's head dipped low and he made another choked sound. "P-Please Arthur—"

"_Look at me_!" Arthur roared.

When Merlin did meet his gaze, his eyes were filled with raw pain and desperation. Tears now streamed down his cheeks and he was trembling. How was it that this was a powerful warlock? Surely, an evil sorcerer would not waste time crying at the boots of a king he hated when his powers could easily free him from this predicament? Yet, Merlin had not tried to use magic to attack Arthur and he'd had eight long years of opportunities before that to harm Arthur if he had wanted.

"Arthur," Merlin pleaded, talking quickly, "you must believe that I didn't... I..." Another sob wrenched from his throat. "I was born like this. I have magic, and I use it for you, Arthur. Only for you. It's yours... Everything I have done for you..." He gasped for a breath. "All of it's for you..."

And even though he spoke of magic, the notion was so very Merlin that Arthur felt his words were true. The servant had always had such a sense of duty that he'd followed Arthur into hopeless battles and sworn to protect him despite having little physical prowess to offer. Arthur finally understood why: Merlin had been using his powers to help Arthur for years. All of those times they had been lucky and beat near-impossible odds... Luck had never really been involved.

When Arthur failed to respond, Merlin hung his head and choked back cries. "Please don't hate me..."

'Please don't hate me.' Not 'please don't kill me.' Again, Arthur was struck by the Merlin-ness of the situation.

Only a stupid, incompetent, _loyal_ _idiot_ like Merlin could come to Camelot—a place where having magic meant death—and devote himself to the service of the very leader who would have his kind killed. And only an idiot like Merlin would be more concerned with Arthur hating him than Arthur executing him.

It was _all_ so very _Merlin_.

"Why, Merlin? Why would you do all of this?"

Merlin shook his head and clasped a shaking hand over his mouth.

Arthur's anger melted away, but a dull pain still throbbed in his chest as he watched Merlin. This was no evil sorcerer before him. It was just a young man who had selflessly spent the past eight years of his life hiding himself in order to protect his king... His friend. Arthur could see that it was not for recognition, just like any of the things Merlin did. What was it Gwaine had said when they'd searched for a missing Merlin years ago?

_"He never expects any praise. All these things he does, just for the good of doing them."_

Arthur often thought that he understood loneliness, how a person could be surrounded by people and still be alone, but what Merlin must have gone through was beyond the isolating charge of kinghood. And still, Arthur had a feeling that Merlin would gladly have kept his magic a secret for a lifetime if it was what he must do to protect Arthur.

"I trusted you," Arthur repeated, "and you didn't trust me."

Merlin shook his head violently. "It's not like—"

He stopped when Arthur's hand fell heavily onto his shoulder, but he did not look up, even as Arthur sheathed Excalibur and crouched before him. "But I never gave you a reason to trust me with your secret, did I?"

Merlin met his eyes hesitantly and Arthur gave a terse nod. "You have a lot to tell me, Merlin. Don't think you are getting out of that, but... I do not think that you could ever intend me harm and I understand why you kept your secret. I wish you could have felt safe telling me sooner, but that is as much my fault as yours."

"You aren't angry that I have magic?" Merlin whispered. "You don't think I'm evil?"

"Do not misunderstand me," Arthur said. "I am furious that you lied to me, but... You could not possibly be an _evil_ sorcerer, Merlin. Look at you, crying like a girl—Oof!"

The king had to catch himself before he was knocked over by the weight of his servant as Merlin threw his arms around Arthur's midsection. It took Arthur a moment to realize that Merlin was hugging him quite fervently. The younger man's face was buried against his chest and his fists were closed around handfuls of cloak at his back. Merlin shook with the loud sobs he had finally let loose.

As Arthur returned the hug, his lingering doubts left him. This was Merlin. And whether or not he had magic, he was his friend. Though there was no denying that this revelation would alter their relationship, Arthur felt he had made the right choice.

"Thank you, Arthur. Thank you." Merlin repeated his mantra as if stopping would make Arthur suddenly change his mind.

Arthur patted Merlin's head tentatively and looked to the sky. "It's going to be alright. You... don't have to bear this burden alone any longer." That made Merlin cry louder. The king sighed and rested his chin atop Merlin's head. "Oh, Merlin, you idiot. What are we going to do with you?"

Merlin laughed or sobbed into his shoulder. Arthur suspected it was a bit of both.

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**And that's all she wrote (for now anyway). Just a note to let you all know that this isn't even halfway through the story as planned, so don't think the reveal means we are nearing an end. There is more to come as Arthur finally gets to learn about Merlin on their adventure. What is better than Arthur, Merlin and the knights all bantering, bickering and bonding on an adventure to defeat Morgana, after all?**


	9. In which one revelation is enough

**Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed. I truly appreciated the kind words. It was great to hear that readers enjoyed the reveal chapter, because I was incredibly nervous about posting it! I love reveal stories and really wanted to make sure I got it right. **

**So this chapter was not originally planned, but when I sat down to write what I had intended, this just sort of came out. ****It continues on with Arthur and Merlin on their way to meet back up with the knights, because I felt like they still had so much to discuss.****  
**

**The next three chapters after this one are each partially drafted, so the wait between each update should not be too bad. I will hopefully post the next chapter by the weekend. I do have finals and a couple weeks in Ireland coming up, though, so updates may not be as regular after these next few chapters. I will also prioritize chapters for this story over "PTP" unless inspiration comes to work on Merlin's perspective sooner. That said, please feel free to let me know if there is something specific you would like to see in Merlin's side of this story. I already know which things I plan to post that fill in the major plot gaps that happen out of Arthur's vicinity, but I am also open to throwing in a few other scenes if readers are particularly curious about something else going on with Merlin "off screen" of this story.**

**Happy reading and please review. I always appreciate the feedback (constructive criticism included!).**

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Eventually, Merlin's breathing calmed and he loosened his grip on Arthur's cloak, allowing Arthur to hold him away at arm's length. Merlin looked a pitiful mess of snot and tears, but his eyes were warm and grateful. No malice was hidden there, just brotherly affection.

"Alright, then?"

Merlin nodded and wiped at his face with the back of his sleeve. Arthur refrained from insulting him, but he did wrinkle his nose a bit at the action.

"You don't know what this means to me, Arthur. How long I have wanted you to know and accept me. I will make it all up to you. I—"

"I know." Arthur squeezed his shoulders. "You have much to tell me."

"Anything! What do you want to know?"

"It can wait until you're no longer a blubbering mess. Honestly Merlin, I don't know if I'm more surprised by the magic or by what a girl you truly are."

"Oi!" Merlin protested. "Then your life has been saved many times by a girl."

"Ah, so you're admitting it then?"

Merlin frowned. "Dollop head."

Arthur's smile grew and he clipped Merlin around the head. "That's better." He stood and wiped some invisible dirt from his trousers.

Merlin laughed and rubbed his head. "You really don't hate me, Arthur?" he asked unsurely a moment later.

Arthur sighed and offered a hand to help him up. "I really don't hate you. Now, let's try get back before the others think we've been taken. Surely they have noticed that Lot has overtaken Nemeth."

Once Merlin was standing, he looked around sheepishly. "I think I scared off the horses back there."

Arthur took a good look at their surroundings. Sure enough, the horses were nowhere to be seen. "Then we really need to get walking. Fortunately, we aren't too far from the rendezvous point. We can make it back before dusk."

Merlin nodded and retrieved the sword he'd dropped during his desperate plea for Arthur's forgiveness.

"Really, Merlin? You can throw a man twice your size with a word. Why on earth do you need a weapon?"

Merlin shrugged and secured the sword through his belt once again. "You never know what could happen."

"Hm. Let's go then."

They walked for a short while in companionable silence. Arthur's mind was working hard to process the new information about his friend and Merlin, for once, was patiently waiting on his master to speak. Merlin appeared rather fidgety in the silence, glancing at Arthur every now and then in what Arthur suspected was nervousness that he might suddenly rescind his acceptance of Merlin's magic.

"You said 'always' earlier," Arthur said.

Merlin's eyebrows shot up as he looked at Arthur. "What?"

"You said you've always had magic."

Merlin swallowed. "Oh, erm, yes."

"For as long as I've known you?" Arthur asked.

"For as long as I've _been_ me."

Arthur frowned. "What do you mean?"

Merlin took a deep breath and bit his lip. "Are you sure you're ready for this, Arthur?"

The king rolled his eyes, though inwardly, he wondered the same. Was he prepared to dive headfirst into a discussion about Merlin's magic? He knew he would not—could not, even if he wanted to—reject Merlin for it, but was he quite ready to hear the details and understand all that it implied?

"Of course, I'm ready," he heard himself saying.

Merlin raised his eyebrows higher in doubt.

"_Mer_lin."

Merlin tugged at his neckerchief as if straightening it out. "I was born with magic."

"Born with it?" Arthur repeated. "Is that even possible?"

"Gaius thinks I'm the first."

"And what makes you so special?"

Merlin shrugged and looked rather uncomfortable, so Arthur chose not to press the matter.

"You always were an oddity, Merlin," he mused. "Apparently, you're an oddity among sorcerers as well."

They were silent for a while longer before Arthur spoke again. "What type of magic are you able to do? Is it just..." He stopped.

Would he really want to know this? What if Merlin was able to do the kind of dark magic he had seen from Nimueh, Morgause and Morgana? He knew that it was a ridiculous notion and that Merlin would never choose to do such evil magic, but he wondered if it might bother him to knew that Merlin had the ability.

"Arthur?" Merlin asked.

Arthur offered him a small smile. "I'm sorry. I'm trying to wrap my head around it all still, but I do _want_ to know things."

"Perhaps not all at once?" Merlin suggested. "It won't hurt my feelings if you aren't ready to know everything."

"I want to know _you_."

Merlin gave him a funny look. "You do know me, Arthur."

"I know the kind of man and friend you are," Arthur agreed, "but I want to understand why. I feel like this is just the first thread to unravelling the mystery you have always been."

"Well, when you solve me, please let me know," Merlin joked. "Sometimes, I'm still trying to figure out why I do the things I do. There is one reason I know for sure, though."

"What's that?" Arthur asked.

"You," Merlin said simply. "I would do almost anything for your sake, Arthur." He grinned at Arthur goofily. "Even though you're a great big prat."

Arthur took the bait, knowing that teasing and banter was a much more comfortable interaction for both of them. "Better a prat than a halfwit."

"I'm not a halfwit," Merlin protested.

"Oh really?" Arthur mocked. "You have magic and yet you have never once thought up a spell to shrink those ridiculous ears of yours. Honestly, how do you expect anyone to take you seriously?" He flicked Merlin's ear for emphasis.

Merlin cupped his ear and pursed his lips in irritation. "There is nothing wrong with my ears. And you really shouldn't talk. I fixed your donkey ears, you know. I can always bring them back. It was rather tempting to leave them at the time. Being an ass suited you so well."

Arthur furrowed his brow and looked straight ahead. So Merlin's magic clearly had more to it than just throwing enemies and snapping tree branches.

"Are you going to tell the others?" Merlin asked, suddenly.

"Do you want me to?"

Merlin shrugged, attempting to seem nonchalant, but Arthur could sense his nervousness.

"I think they have the right to know," Arthur said, "but I understand if you aren't ready the share this yet. So, no, I won't tell them unless you want me to."

Merlin licked his lips and clenched his shaking hands. "They do have a right to know. It's been hard keeping this secret from all of you. It was easier with Lancelot around."

"He knew?" Arthur was surprised and a bit miffed by the revelation that Merlin had entrusted his secret to the other man.

Fortunately, Merlin seemed oblivious to the tone of jealousy in Arthur's voice as he nodded. "I used magic to kill the griffin. He saw."

Arthur's eyebrows shot up. "No wonder he would not accept knighthood back then."

"He wanted to earn it himself." Merlin met Arthur's eyes. "He and Gwen never actually betrayed you, you know. It was a shade—a double enchanted by Morgana. Our Lancelot died when he stepped through the veil in my place."

Arthur frowned at the overload of information but chose not to comment on the bit about his wife. They had moved beyond that incident and he felt it best to leave that dark moment in the past. "_Your_ place?"

Merlin fixed him a patronizing look. "Really, Arthur, did you think I was going to let you sacrifice yourself? I knocked you unconscious so that I could go through the veil for you, but Lancelot..."

Arthur sighed. "He was even nobler than I knew. As are you, my friend."

Merlin smiled shyly and ducked his head.

As they continued on, Arthur considered the information about Lancelot. There was clearly a lot that the king did not know about in his kingdom, and he wondered how many people he had misjudged as he had Merlin and Lancelot. Were there other magic users and sympathizers in Camelot who were kind and noble? Perhaps other servants or peasants who passed him in the square? Maybe even one of his knights or the council members? Were they living a lie every day in fear of execution should they be discovered?

"Do you think they will hate me?" Merlin asked, pulling him from his thoughts.

"Who?"

Merlin didn't respond right away. His fingers twitched at his sides as he gave a sideway glance in Arthur's direction. "The knights." He shrugged. "Gwen."

"I don't know that those men could ever hold hatred in their hearts for you, Merlin. Their fondness for you can actually be quite irritating at times. And Guinevere has been your friend for as long as I. They may be hurt at first, but given time they will understand that you are still the same Merlin and that you did as you had to."

"And you?"

"What about me? You already know I have accepted you." He watched as Merlin worked nervously at his bottom lip and shrugged again. "Oh, just spit it out, Merlin."

"Are _you_ hurt?"

"I..." Arthur stopped himself before a lie or a teasing comment slipped past his lips. He gave Merlin a serious look and sighed. "I am trying not to be."

Merlin's eyes became sad, but Arthur could not regret his words. If they were going to maintain honesty, he couldn't hold back on his end. "I'm sorry," Merlin said.

"I fear you may be hurting more than I am, though."

"Why do you say that?"

"I have recently come to understand the loneliness of secrets, and you have known it for much longer than I," Arthur said. "How lonely it must have been to hide every day."

Merlin neither confirmed nor denied his king's assumption, but Arthur could tell by Merlin's downward-cast eyes that years of suffering had been hidden from him.

"What secrets are keeping you lonely?" Merlin prodded.

Arthur shook his head. It was certainly not the time to bring up his visions of Merlin's death. Perhaps he could hold back this _one_ thing for now. "Let's manage one life-altering revelation at a time, shall we?"

Merlin looked dubious but was clearly feeling too timid to protest him at the moment. The king was grateful for it as he worked up the nerve to ask Merlin a question that had been nagging at his mind.

"Merlin," he began, "Gaius once told me that I would someday understand how much others had done for my sake. I assume now that he meant you?"

Merlin tore his gaze away from Arthur's uncomfortably. "You are a great man, Arthur, and a great king. Many of us have made sacrifices to defend all that you stand for."

"None more than you, I suspect. I fear my ignorance has done you a greater injustice than any secret you may have kept from me. I get the feeling that you taken much on by yourself, Merlin. Just what have you sacrificed for me?"

The younger man opened his mouth and quickly shut it again, swallowing convulsively. Arthur could see the muscle in his jaw working as he quite evidently grappled with something. As it seemed tears were about to fall, Arthur graciously looked away, ceding this shred of privacy to the man who had already revealed so much for one day.

Merlin sniffed and wiped at his face again. After a few minutes of silence, Merlin murmured a name, "Freya."

Arthur felt cold in the pit of his stomach as he heard the name Percival had mentioned at the start of this journey. _"I do think he had a girl once."_ The large knight had suggested that it must not have ended well.

"A girl?" Arthur asked dumbly.

"Her name was Freya," Merlin said, "and she was kind and beautiful. I promise that one day I will tell you about her and about my father. I will be proud to tell you how their lives and their deaths have made me who I am." He sighed and looked at Arthur with a strange glint in his eye. "But one life-altering revelation at a time, right? For now, I suppose I should concentrate on telling our friends about my magic."


	10. In which everybody already knows

**I cannot believe that this story has received more than one hundred reviews already. I feel so honored that people are reading and commenting on my first fanfic, and I cannot thank you all enough. You have all been incredibly kind and helpful in your reviews or private messages. **

**This chapter is ready to go much sooner than I had anticipated. So finally, we have reached the reveal with the knights. I had a bit of fun with this one, especially with poking fun at Arthur's cluelessness. I just cannot imagine the rest of the knights are as oblivious to Merlin's talents as Arthur is. (Speaking of which... Does anyone else think that Gwaine knew in "Diamond of the Day?" I wish he and Merlin had the chance to talk about Merlin's magic, because I believe Gwaine knew all along.) **

**Well, I hope you all enjoy. Please review and let me know what you think of the reveal.**

**P.S. Irene, I hope you are feeling well after having your wisdom teeth removed! Feel better soon and thanks for reviewing!**

_**Edit: I have gone back to the original title format for the story after a couple people mentioned missing the "In which" at the beginnings. I had originally removed them because of the length restriction on the titles, but I just shortened the title that caused the problem. Also, the new title for this chapter should be credited to Black-Swan1994, who suggested a much better title than I had originally posted. Thanks!**_

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It was not much longer before their companions found them. At the sound of horses galloping, Arthur and Merlin left the path to take refuge in the brush, but soon saw the familiar red capes emblazoned with the Pendragon crest.

"Leon!" Arthur called, revealing their hiding place to Leon and Gwaine.

"There you both are," Gwaine said happily as he dismounted his horse. "We were worried when your horses turned up without you."

"We ran into some trouble with Odin's men."

"We saw them as well," Leon said. "Odin seems to have a small army occupying Nemeth."

"Indeed," Arthur said. "It's worse than that, even. We saw Morgan capture Princess Mithian with a group of his knights."

"This is certainly an act of war against Camelot. Odin has stayed his hand against our lands for year, but if he has allied himself with Morgana..."

"I know. Where are Elyan and Percival?"

"Waiting with your horses back at the rendezvous site in case you decided to show up there," Gwaine said. "Have either of you been injured?" He was watching Merlin with scrutiny.

Arthur turned to his manservant to see that he was rather pale and seemed to be avoiding the knights' eyes.

"We're both fine," Arthur answered. "Don't mind Merlin. He's just a bit rattled. We had a close call back there, but neither of us was injured. In fact, he handled himself quite well during the altercation. We should get back to the others."

Gwaine seemed to be skeptical but he nodded and climbed back onto his horse. "Come on, mate," he said to Merlin.

Merlin smiled halfheartedly and climbed up behind him on the horse.

Arthur climbed on behind Leon and they began the now faster trek back to their meeting place.

"Did any of Odin's men see you?" Arthur asked as they rode.

"None," Leon said. "There were too many for us to take on in pairs. I think we need to send for reinforcements before Odin and Morgana push into Camelot's border."

"I agree. Better for the battlefront to be here than at the citadel. And if Nemeth's royal family is captive, we must organize a rescue mission."

"I don't know if we can get enough men here in time," Gwaine said. "If they have Nemeth's army at their disposal as well—"

"Rodor's men are very loyal to him. I doubt they will fight for Odin and Morgana. But you are right, even without them, the number of men Odin has amassed here can prove a challenge with Morgana's magic backing them."

"We can defeat them," Merlin said with a confident look to Arthur.

The king knew that Merlin was implying his own magic could fight Morgana's, but he chose to ignore the comment.

"What makes you so sure of that?" Gwaine asked with amusement.

"I just know," Merlin insisted.

They arrived twenty minutes later to find Percival and Elyan waiting with four anxious horses. The moment they dismounted, Merlin went to check that both his and Arthur's horses were undamaged.

"You're alright," Elyan said with relief.

"No worse for wear," Arthur said. "Leon and Gwaine tell me that you've witnessed Odin's men in Nemeth as well."

"Yes," Percival said. "About fifteen of them between the two groups patrolling."

"Then you know we may have a war on our hands. Odin is holding the royal family captive, and based on what Merlin and I witnessed, Morgana is working with him. We don't have enough men here to defend Camelot's border, but I cannot just abandon our allies in Nemeth. Therefore, I am sending Leon and Elyan back to Camelot for reinforcements. Gwaine and Percival will stay here with me."

"Sire, surely you don't plan to fight with just three men," Leon argued.

"No, but I would rather be here, in case something happens, than back in the comfort of the citadel. I trust you to lead my men from Camelot. We will set up our campsite here and wait for you."

Leon bowed his head. "Of course. We will ride out immediately."

"There is another option," Merlin said.

All eyes turned to him and Arthur could tell the servant was feeling rather nervous. He knew what he was about to do, but regardless of whether or not the knights knew of Merlin's magic, Arthur was not about to use Merlin as a weapon.

"We don't really have time to humor a servant by listening to his inexperienced advice," Arthur said dismissively. "Merlin, finish seeing to the horses."

Merlin narrowed his eyes at the king. "No, Arthur." It seemed that he was aware of what Arthur was trying to do as well.

"I say we hear him out," Gwaine said. "He's been on just as many of these adventures as any of us, Princess."

"I doubt he has anything valuable to offer," Arthur said with a pointed look at Merlin.

"Yes, and that is what makes you an arrogant fool," Gwaine argued. "Go on, Merlin."

Merlin's irritation with Arthur had offered only a brief reprieve from his nerves, because he began tugging at the hem of his jacket nervously. "I think that we need... Well, that is, I mean to say..."

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Just spit it out if you're going to, you idiot."

"Magic," Merlin said quietly. "We need to use magic."

"Merlin, you can't be serious," Leon said.

"There are too many men." Merlin sounded a bit more confident now. "The six of us with no magic could not possibly fight them. There is not enough time to bring Camelot's army here to defend the border and we cannot leave Rodor, Mithian and the people of Nemeth to suffer under Odin and Morgana. We need to act as quickly as possible, and that means we need magic."

"Where do you propose we find someone to use magic in Camelot, where it is banned?" Gwaine asked.

And Merlin, who was surprisingly eloquent when penning Arthur's speeches or offering sage advice but incredibly tongue-tied when anxious, blurted it out rather suddenly. "Me. I have magic."

What happened in the next few moments was not all what Arthur had expected.

All at once, everyone had stopped what they were doing. Elyan stopped readying his horse and stood completely still. Percival's hand had frozen where it was picking up a piece of wood for a fire. Leon's eyes grew wide and his face ghost-white. The only knight who had reached for a sword was Gwaine, and his eyes were surprisingly on Arthur, a dare hidden behind them.

He was not the only one looking at Arthur, though. Each of the knights was looking back and forth between the king and the servant as if waiting for something else to happen. Not one of them made a move to apprehend the confessed sorcerer.

"Guys?" Merlin said uncomfortably.

"Good joke, mate," Gwaine said in a light tone, but his gaze had not left Arthur's and he looked anything but light. No one laughed.

Merlin looked at Gwaine with a frown. "It... erm... it isn't a joke."

Gwaine sidestepped closer to Merlin, looking ready to put himself between him and the king. He still had not drawn his sword, but his hand remained on the hilt. By this point, Percival looked more prepared to spring into action as well.

Arthur realized with astonishment that they were both preparing to defend Merlin _against_ him.

"Oh, for heaven's sake," Arthur growled. "I know already."

"You do?" Leon asked, his shoulders relaxing a bit in obvious relief.

"Well, I've only just found out today, but yes."

"Oh," Gwaine said dumbly, releasing the hold on his sword. "Alright then."

No one else said anything. Arthur caught Merlin's eye and could see that the younger man was just as confused as he was.

"It appears I have done a poor job of selecting my inner circle of knights," Arthur said. "A man confesses to sorcery and not one of you tries to arrest him?"

"Do you... want us to arrest him, Sire?" Elyan asked unsurely.

Arthur sighed and stared up at the sky. This day was beginning to give him a headache. "No, I do not want you to arrest Merlin. Is not one of you at least a little bit concerned that he has just confessed to sorcery?"

"Not that you should be," Merlin noted anxiously. "I am decidedly _not_ evil."

Arthur rolled his eyes as the knights shared an apprehensive look with one another.

"You see," Leon started, "Sire—"

"We already knew," Gwaine said.

Arthur gaped. "You knew? All of you knew?" He looked around at each of them. Gwaine and Percival both nodded confidently. Elyan shrugged and looked rather like he wanted to be anywhere else. Even Leon—Leon! Arthur's most faithful knight, of all people!—hesitantly indicated his affirmation.

"But I... I never told any of you!" Merlin exclaimed, looking a bit green.

Gwaine gave him an apologetic smile. "Sorry, mate, but you do a terrible job of hiding it."

Merlin opened his mouth but seemed unable to find anymore words.

Not for the first time that day, Arthur felt betrayed by the secret-keeping of his friends. The reasonable part of him knew that any lies had been intended to protect Merlin, but that didn't change the fact that his trusted inner circle appeared to have given their loyalty to a _servant_ over their king. "How long have you all been hiding this from me?" he asked sourly.

"I can only speak for myself," Gwaine said. "I wasn't even sure that anyone else knew, but when I first met you and Merlin in that tavern, he was tossing plates at the group of thugs."

"What do Merlin's terrible fighting skills have to do with anything?"

"He was throwing them without hands."

Arthur's eyebrows rose. "Oh. And the rest of you?"

"Gwen and I had theorized that it was the reason the Lamia didn't affect Merlin," Elyan said. "She had wondered it before when other strange things had happened surrounding him. It was really the only thing that explained all of Merlin's oddities and the way he always made it out of trouble unscathed."

Perfect. Arthur's wife was in on the conspiracy as well.

"I had my suspicions because of the way Lancelot regarded Merlin," Percival said. "And then when he survived the Dorocha attack, I decided it must be true."

"Tree branches have been conveniently falling on our enemies for years," Leon explained. "Honestly, I thought that you might have realized it and just chose to ignore it."

"Well, obviously not," Arthur complained bitterly.

"Sire, you must know that we only kept it a secret because Merlin was protecting us. More importantly, it has always been clear that he was keeping _you_ safe."

"It's true," Elyan agreed. "He is very loyal to you and my sister."

Percival nodded. "Merlin has been nothing but a friend to any of us."

"I trust him without question or doubt," Gwaine said proudly.

Merlin's eyes were bright, and even in the fading light of day, the flush that had creeped up his neck and tinged his ears was obvious. His eyebrows furrowed and he appeared to be chewing the inside of his cheek. When he opened his mouth, he sucked in a breath of air and lowered his head. There was another gulp of air and he swiped at his nose. "I... I don't..." Merlin shook his head. "I just..." He finally looked up at each of them in disbelief. "Thank you."

Gwaine grinned and clapped Merlin's shoulder. "No, mate. We should be thanking you. You have saved us loads of times."

"Even though I lied to all of you?"

"Perhaps your words have been lies from time to time," Gwaine said, "but not once has your friendship or your heart been untrue. And that's what matters, after all."

Merlin beamed but seemed to become self-conscious with the attention. He excused himself and went to fiddle with his horse's saddle with a small smirk on his face.

At seeing Merlin's happiness and relief, Arthur couldn't help but feel grateful that his knights had kept this secret and that had accepted Merlin so willingly.

"So it looks like we have magic on our side against Morgana after all," Gwaine said.

"No. Merlin cannot face Morgana." The sense of euphoria was gone from Arthur as he recalled his predicament. He felt badly about having to ruin the moment for the others, but there were more truths to be revealed this night. "In the interest of complete honesty, I should tell you why we really came to Nemeth."

"Thought this was 'just a routine patrol,' Princess," Gwaine teased as he unceremoniously dropped onto the ground and folded his arms atop his bended knees.

"If only it were. I called our quest because Merlin is in danger."

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**And now that everyone knows (and everyone else knows that everyone knows), they can finally find out Arthur's secret, which will finally bring up the question of who Emrys is. I am very excited to finish and post the next chapter because of a particular moment between Arthur and Merlin! **

**Please let me know what you think :)**


	11. In which Merlin is Emrys

**Once again, I am shocked by the response to this story. I'm so happy that people are enjoying it! I received a couple helpful suggestions for the titles and the story and have incorporated some as update, so keep them coming! Thanks so much for being such great and helpful readers :)**

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The warlock's eyes widened as he stopped fiddling with his horse's saddle.

Arthur watched him intently, but Merlin would not look at him. "I am sorry that I didn't tell you, but I wasn't sure what it all meant until today."

"It's alright, Arthur," Merlin said. "I already know. Gaius told me before I cam out here to track Morgana."

For maybe the first time that day, Arthur was not surprised by a revelation. Gaius surely knew of Merlin's magic as well. "I should have known he wouldn't keep it from you."

"Yes, well, you should have known better than to go after Morgana, too," Merlin muttered.

"She needs to be stopped."

"Of course she does," Merlin said testily, "for all of Camelot's sake, but in due time and when you aren't stupidly throwing your life away to do it."

"Do you really think I could just sit around in Camelot waiting for it to happen?" Arthur challenged him. "Waiting for you to be killed, Merlin?"

Merlin's eyes softened but he shook his head. "You're worth a thousand of me. You can't make such rash decisions because you are worried about your servant."

"I made it because I worry about a friend."

Gwaine frowned at his king. "What are you both going on about? Why is Merlin in danger?"

"A few weeks ago, Merlin and I came across a magical tool of the Old Religion," Arthur explained. "The Horn of Cathbhadh allows its user to summon spirits of the dead and visit them in the Spirit World. It's quite a long story, but I used it to see my father. He was accidentally released into our realm, and Merlin and I sent him away again."

"You saw King Uther, my lord?" Leon asked in awe.

Arthur nodded. "Death has changed him little," he said darkly. "I was not left untouched by my visit to the other side of the veil. Since sending my father back to the Spirit World, I have been dreaming things that have frightened me. Each night for more than a week, I have dreamed of your death, Merlin." He tried to meet Merlin's eyes but the warlock seemed to be uncomfortably avoiding his gaze. "I was terrified at first because it seemed he was killed by my hand in each dream. I thought I had gone crazy, so I spoke to Gaius. He believes the dreams were the result of exposure to the strong magic of the Spirit World. It has happened once before, and he thinks that I was having visions of the future."

"Are you planning to kill Merlin for any particular reason?" Gwaine asked. His eyes revealed a fierce protectiveness that amended, 'over my dead body.'

"Not me," Arthur said. "Morgana. It was during the eighth nightmare that I realized she was controlling me. She wants you dead for some reason, Merlin."

Merlin nodded, a grave expression hardening his face. "Morgana carries a longstanding grudge against me."

"Does she know of your magic?" Leon asked.

"She only knows that I have thwarted many of her attempts to harm Arthur and take over Camelot. She has tried to kill me in the past."

The comment had Arthur wondering just how many times Merlin's life had been in peril, but he filed that bit of information away for a later date. One threat of death was enough to deal with for the moment so he would wait until another time to question Merlin about his dangerous ventures. "In my dreams, she is furious because she has discovered something about you—your magic, I presume. She calls you Emrys."

The servant sighed. "That is what the Druids call me. I was... hoping to let you adjust to the idea of my magic before having to tell you about Emrys."

"What could possibly be a more shocking than your magic?" Arthur asked

Merlin finally looked back up at his friends. "I am not a mere sorcerer or warlock. There are prophecies about me and about Arthur. I know that you have heard others refer to you as the Once and Future King, Arthur, but I doubt you have understood its meaning.

"You are destined to be the greatest king that Camelot has ever known. You will unite all of Albion and bring about a golden age of peace and understanding—for non-magical and magical beings, alike."

"Destined?" Arthur repeated doubtfully.

Merlin nodded. "It was written long before you came into this world. And I, as Emrys, am destined to protect and guide you on your path. I have known this since we first met. Not that I believed it at first, what with you being such a turnip head, but I eventually came to see the truth in the prophecies. You quickly grew into the kind of man Camelot deserved to have as king, and I was happy to serve you with my magic."

"But what is Emrys?" Gwaine asked.

Merlin took a breath and glanced self-consciously at Arthur before answering. "The most powerful warlock that has ever and will ever live. And Morgana is terrified of him."

Merlin's statement was met with silence... Until Arthur barked out a laugh.

"Honestly, _Mer_lin! You may have magic, but you're still a clumsy fool who manages to trip over his own two feet on a daily basis. You don't mean to tell us that _you_ are an all-powerful wizard of some sort."

"You'd be surprised," Merlin huffed, which only caused Arthur to laugh more. This quite obviously offended the young man. "If only you knew everything, you wouldn't be so quick to laugh at me, you supercilious clotpole!"

Arthur smirked and stood before his friend, arms crossed over his chest. "Is that so?"

"Yes!" Merlin exclaimed.

"Go on then. I doubt you've done anything all that spectacular."

Merlin gaped incredulously at his king. "You're not even ready to hear all the things I've done for you, Arthur."

But Merlin was wrong. Arthur _needed_ to know, even if it was shocking or upsetting. He suspected that Merlin was unready to tell, but he knew the man well enough to get an admission out of him. The revelations of the past day had revealed that Merlin could manage to remain rather tight-lipped when he had to, but Arthur knew that an indignant Merlin could be prone to candid, sharp-tongued rants.

If Merlin's flared nostrils, tight jaw and closed fists were any indication, Arthur was about to get an impassioned telling-off. "Try me," he dared with a smirk. "Impress me, _Mer_lin."

"Alright," Merlin groused. "Your miraculous recovery from the bite of the Questing Beast? That was me, and I defeated Nimueh saving you. That dragon you killed? Yeah, that was me as well, except the dragon isn't actually dead. He's been merely banished from Camelot at _my_ command, which he cannot refuse. The undead army that Morgana supposedly stopped? Well, she and Morgause were _both_ behind that, but guess who stopped them. _Me_. Morgana's immortal army? Also me. Who forged Excalibur in a dragon's breath and put it in the stone from which you drew it? Me." Merlin began ticking off his list on his fingers. "Valiant, the griffin, Cedric, the troll, Princess Elena, the goblin—Should I go on?"

Arthur's eyebrows had moved higher and higher as Merlin had quickly rattled off his list of deeds on one breath. He said nothing as Merlin glared in indignation.

Merlin lifted his hand toward a tree. "_Forbearnan firgenholt_."

His eyes lit gold and the tree collapsed. Arthur and the knights gaped. Merlin turned his attention back to Arthur and held his palm up between them. "_Seópan ærest wearð feasceaft funden. Denum æfter dom. Dreamleas gebad he gewann langsum_."

A glowing white orb appeared above his palm, illuminating both of their faces. Merlin and Arthur regarded each other for a long moment, the orb floating between them.

"It was you," Arthur said dumbly.

Merlin nodded, a hint of pride gleaming behind his golden eyes. "It has always been me."

A mystery as old as their friendship was suddenly solved. All those years ago, Arthur had believed he had a secret guardian watching out for him. To find out now that it had been Merlin all along filled him with immense pride and affection. Merlin had truly been his greatest friend and ally from the beginning.

"Every time I think I have figured you out, Merlin, you prove yourself to be a even better man than I knew."

Merlin's ears had gone red again with embarrassment as he smiled and tried to make light of the moment. "I dare say that you would be quite hopeless without me, Sire."

Arthur looked back down at the orb in wonder. "I dare say you might be correct, old friend," he said earnestly.

Merlin dropped his hand and the orb faded out of existence. "Do you have any other questions?" he joked nervously to the men.

"I do," Leon said uncomfortably. "The... Princess Elena?"

"A changeling," Merlin said. "She was part fairy."

"Well, that doesn't sound too awful," Gwaine mused.

Merlin fixed him a rather appalled look. "The Sidhe are blue and hideous. They have _antennae_. And ears this big!" His hands gestured to the air a few inches above his head. "Arthur was going to _marry _her!"

Arthur felt his face grow hot and Gwaine guffawed. "So, I think it is fairly well established that Merlin is this Emrys. Agreed?"

"It would appear so," Elyan said, "and Morgana wants to kill him."

Merlin's look darkened. "She _will_ kill me."

Percival stepped forward and set a heavy hand on the warlock's shoulder. "Not if we stop her."

"You don't understand. The magic of the Old Religion is strong, and the visions produced by it are frighteningly accurate. I suspect that is why Gaius at first went along with Arthur's foolish idea to keep the dreams secret from me. If Arthur has seen it, then it will come to pass."

"I will not allow it to happen," Arthur said in a commanding voice. He looked around at his knights. "Men, this is our quest. We must take back Nemeth for our allies and stop the witch Morgana before she harms Merlin. Can I trust each of you to protect him?"

"Arthur, this won't work," Merlin objected. "I know from experience that any attempt to alter what has been seen will only cause it to happen. You cannot circumvent fate."

"It's a good job I don't accept these dreams as fate, then."

"You say it's impossible?" Gwaine said to Merlin. "Well, those are my kind of odds." He stood and held his arm out to his king. "Arthur, you know you can rely on me to protect Merlin."

Arthur nodded and gripped his forearm with a grin.

"And me," Leon said. "With my life."

"Merlin would do it for any of us," Elyan said. "And I will not hesitate to protect him."

Percival squeezed Merlin's shoulder and nodded to Arthur. "It does not even need asking."

Arthur looked at each of his men and then at Merlin, who was frowning at the ground. "Merlin?"

The warlock did not meet his eyes. He took a few deliberate breaths and opened his mouth. "I'm not worth all this."

Arthur rolled his eyes, knowing fully how stubborn his servant could be. "I'm king," he said haughtily. "I'll decide who's worth what."

Percival released his grip on Merlin as the king came forward. Arthur grasped Merlin by each of his arms and leant his head toward Merlin's line of sight. "You've done more for us than we could ever ask of you, and we probably owe you more than we can repay."

He waited for his friend to respond to him, but Merlin seemed resolutely drawn to the forest floor. Arthur could feel him tense underneath his hands. "Merlin," he urged.

Blue eyes looked up at Arthur from underneath dark eyelashes.

Arthur gave him a serious look. "You have five friends right here who would fight fate itself to keep you alive. Let us do this for you."

Merlin's eyes were on the ground again but he nodded quickly and sniffed.

"So it is settled." With a satisfied grin, Arthur mussed Merlin's hair, earning him a small smile as his friend dodged and affectionately muttered the word "prat."

"Just stop sniffling like a sentimental girl," Arthur mocked quietly. "There's been quite enough of that for one day."

He threw his arm around Merlin's shoulder and forced the reluctant warlock to face the other men with him. "It is time the tables turned and we help you for a change."

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**I am quite pleased with Merlin's little outburst in this chapter. I always love when he gets all flustered and goes on rants on the show, so I had fun with that. I also really liked the "It was you," "It has always been me" bit with Arthur and Merlin. Let me know what you think!**

**Next time on "Fighting Fate," ****Arthur must make a promise (uh-oh!) and Morgana is not too happy with recent developments...**


	12. In which loneliness darkens the heart

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed or added this story to your alert/favorite lists. I know my updates have been fairly close together for the past week or so, but I just want to warn you all that I have finals this week. That means my next update may not come until next week (unless I decide to be a bad student and skip studying).** **As such, I have made this chapter a bit longer than usual.**

**Ladies and gentlemen, we have finally arrived at the major conflict of the story. Don't worry, there will still be bromance and bonding (I cannot seem to part with it); there will just be more Morgana as well.**

**I really hope you all enjoy it! You've all been so lovely and supportive in your reviews. I hope I continue to deliver chapters that you enjoy!**

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Not long after discussing the danger facing Merlin, Arthur and Leon agreed that it was still best to send Leon and Elyan for reinforcements. Arthur refused to use Merlin's magic to make an offensive move against Odin and Morgana, and as much as he wanted to put Merlin back where he was safe inside Camelot's walls, Arthur knew they could not all turn back from Nemeth. He had tried in vain to get Merlin to accompany the returning knights, but even in mortal danger, Merlin was too headstrong to leave. The newly-discovered sorcerer swore he had some tricks up his sleeve should they need to act before Camelot's army arrived.

At the moment, Arthur was near to finishing the first watch of the night. He had immediately volunteered himself in order to delay his nightmares a bit longer. If he had thought sharing the burden of the visions would somehow alleviate the anxiety, he had been sorely mistaken. As relieved as he was to have the others actively protecting his manservant, Merlin's grim acceptance of his supposedly inevitable fate had worsened Arthur's fear.

The revelation of Merlin's abilities had merely distracted him for the day, but while he sat in silence and peered through the darkness of the forest, all Arthur could think of was his sword pinning Merlin to a tree.

Arthur heard a loud sigh and glanced beyond the dying fire to where the bed rolls had been set up. Neither Percival's nor Gwaine's face was visible to Arthur, but he could see the deep grimace set on Merlin's in his sleep. He was obviously sleeping about as well as Arthur had been for the past week.

Once he was sure that Merlin was not waking, Arthur unsheathed Excalibur and sat it across his knees. He stared at the sword, contemplating what Merlin had said earlier about forging it in the dragon's breath. It was amazing how the truth led to more questions than it did answers. He'd heard enough to piece together that Merlin was most likely a dragonlord, among his many talents, and that Excalibur was somehow a superior sword thanks to Merlin.

If this was the sword that would kill Merlin, Arthur wished Merlin had never given it to him.

He must have been staring at the sword for quite some time because he was startled by Percival's appearance beside him. Apparently, Arthur's lookout duties were finished for the night.

"You look like you could use some sleep," Percival told his king.

"I wish I could just stay awake," Arthur said with a glance in Merlin's direction. "It's preferable to watching your friend die every night."

"Merlin will be fine. Perhaps once this is over, we can get you sorted out so you won't be having visions any longer."

"I hope so."

"Either way, you need to sleep," Percival said. "We will need you at your best."

Arthur nodded and made his way to the bedroll that had been set up for him a few feet away from Merlin's. He paused to watch Merlin for a moment. The warlock was stretched out on his back and using one arm like a pillow beneath his head. He didn't move or acknowledge Arthur's presence, so the king decided he must be deep in sleep.

Arthur yawned as he settled in on his own bedding and shut his eyes, praying for dreamless sleep.

It wasn't long before Arthur heard his name whispered by the supposedly sleeping servant beside him.

"Arthur? Are you awake?"

"A bit hard to sleep with you talking to me, isn't it?" Arthur turned his head to see his friend staring at the sky. "Are you alright?"

Merlin opened his mouth, but the only noise he made was a sharp intake of breath before he shut it again. He looked over at Arthur a moment later. "I was just wondering if..."

"If what?" Arthur prodded when he trailed off.

"In the dreams you've been having, how does it happen?" Merlin asked quietly. "How am I to die?"

"It doesn't matter, because it isn't going to happen."

"I know that you will all try your hardest to save me," Merlin said, "but it might be out of your control. I just thought that—just in case Morgana does kill me—maybe it would be easier if I prepared for it?"

Arthur said nothing.

"Please, Arthur. I can't sleep for wondering about it."

Arthur turned his gaze to the stars. "It's not even with magic. She kills you with a sword... my sword."

"Will it be quick?"

Arthur sighed. "A clean through and through just below your heart. Minutes, perhaps."

"Oh," was all Merlin said.

They lapsed into silence and Arthur began to wonder if Merlin had drifted off, but he looked to find Merlin's eyes on him. "It won't really happen, Merlin. You should get some sleep."

"And why aren't you asleep, then?"

"Because my annoying manservant is too afraid of the dark to shut up."

Merlin snorted but said nothing more.

"Merlin, did you ever consider telling me before?"

"I wanted to, but..."

"What?"

"You'd have chopped my head off," Merlin joked faintly.

"Honestly, before all this business with the Horn and my father and the visions... I'm not sure what I would have done."

"And I didn't want to put you in that position."

Arthur frowned. "That's what worried you?"

"Some men are born to plow fields, some live to be great physicians, others to be great kings. Me, I was born to serve you, Arthur. And I'm proud of that. And I wouldn't change a thing."

"No, I'm not sure I would either." Arthur studied Merlin's expression a moment longer before closing his eyes. It seemed like a good enough note to end the night on, so he was surprised to hear the other man speak again.

"If I die, Arthur, can you promise me something?"

Arthur was tempted to point out again that Merlin would not die, but the seriousness in his tone stopped him. He was reminded of Merlin's words in his dreams. _"Remember your promise."_

"We aren't making any deathbed promises tonight, Merlin."

"This is important," Merlin insisted.

"What is it?" Arthur asked warily.

"Be careful with Mordred. I have seen things... He will be your downfall."

Arthur got up on one elbow and frowned at Merlin. "You've seen it? Like my visions of your death?"

Merlin looked sad as he nodded.

Arthur supposed that he was just too tired to feel truly scared, but he was certainly shocked by the news. "You're serious."

"I would never joke about this. Mordred has magic, and he knows about mine. I have been watching him since he came to Camelot. I don't think he wishes to harm you, but something must be meant to happen. I don't know what it will be, but it will change him. Though he is good now, darkness lies somewhere in him. You must be careful."

"I thought you said fate was unavoidable."

"It has never stopped me from trying to change it," Merlin told him. "I'm determined for this to be the time I succeed."

Arthur nodded. "Well, let's concentrate on one doomed fate at a time, shall we? We will save you, Merlin, and then we will deal with this business with Mordred."

"You still must promise," Merlin insisted. "If I do not survive, you will do what must be done. Albion needs you."

"It needs you, too," Arthur said fondly. "But, yes, I promise."

"Thank you."

As he watched a relieved smile grace Merlin's face, Arthur felt nothing but dread. He truly hoped this wasn't the promise Merlin spoke of in his visions. "You really believe that Mordred is capable of that kind of treachery?"

"I believe..." Merlin paused and had a look of deep concentration as if he was thinking over his response very carefully. "The world has not always been kind to those of us gifted with magic. Honestly, it is not surprising that so many of the magic users we have met used their talents for ill. People are taught to be afraid of us and to hate us. So I believe that under the right circumstances, anyone could be capable of terrible things... Even good people."

"You haven't done anything terrible," Arthur said, "and you've had magic all your life."

"I'm not perfect," Merlin said darkly. "I'm not saying that I have used my magic for evil, but it doesn't mean that I have never acted out of spite or anger. I have my own regrets in how I have handled some of your enemies in the past, even if I have done it all for you."

"Hm." Arthur laid back down and stared at the sky. "That has nothing to do with your magic, though, does it? After all, I have made mistakes as both a prince and a king that have hurt people. You don't have to have magic to have regrets."

"I suppose it would be more worrisome if I didn't have regrets," Merlin said. "If you stop regretting your mistakes, you become hard and cruel."

"Like Morgana?" Arthur suggested.

"Yeah," Merlin said softly.

"Merlin, do you think that she could have been different? I once thought that she was a good, kind person, but it is hard to believe that she ever could have been when I see what she has become."

Merlin took a deep breath. "I truly believe she was good. When I first came to Camelot, she had a kind heart. I try hard not to let the person she has become taint the memory of the young woman who rode to Ealdor to defend a village of peasants."

"It's difficult. She hardly seems to be the same person."

"Loneliness and rejection blackened her heart."

"But the darkness must have been there to begin with," Arthur said. "Surely, you must have faced that loneliness, and you have not chosen to harm innocent people."

"Even though I had to hide my magic, I still had nineteen years before Camelot with a mother who accepted and loved me for who I am," Merlin said. "Morgana only had Uther, and he would have executed her if he had discovered her magic. Sometimes, I think that I am partly to blame that Morgana became this, though. I knew that she had magic. She was terrified of it and confided in me, but I didn't tell her about my own abilities. I wanted to so badly, but I was warned that she could not be trusted. I let her live in fear of Uther when I could have shown her that she was not alone. Her loneliness and fear grew into bitter resentment, and she agreed to help Morgause destroy him. I was forced to betray her when she was teetering on the edge between good and evil. If I had not done it, all of Camelot would have surely perished, but the Morgana we knew was forever lost at that point."

Arthur waited for him to say more about this supposed betrayal, but Merlin seemed to be done with the topic. The king realized that he would have to wait for another time to hear the rest of that particular story.

He was surprised when Merlin's quiet voice pulled him out of his thoughts again. "I'm glad that you know about my magic, Arthur."

Arthur quirked one corner of his mouth up. "So am I."

"It's lovely to hear you that you two have ceased your married-couple bickering for the night," Gwaine grumbled. "It truly is. But for the rest of us who would like our beauty sleep, could you save your professions of love for the morning?"

Percival laughed from his post, and Merlin rolled his eyes but smiled. "If only because you need that beauty sleep so badly," he joked.

The half-asleep knight's only acknowledgement was a grunt before rolling over with his back to Merlin and Arthur.

Arthur chuckled and reached over to roughly pat Merlin's arm. "Get some sleep, alright?"

"You too," Merlin said softly. He wriggled around a bit until he was comfortably on his side, facing away from Arthur.

Arthur listened as his breaths evened out in sleep. His own dreams were soon to follow.

_Arthur found himself standing at the back of a familiar throne room. He had traveled to Nemeth once after his marriage to Guinevere to finalize the details of the treaty regarding Gedref. King Rodor had sat at the throne upon Arthur's arrival and had greeted him with Princess Mithian at his side._

_The room looked very different to him now._

_Morgana and Odin stood at the head of the room, which was filled with Odin's knights. King Rodor and Princess Mithian both sat on their knees with their wrists bound. Morgana smiled smugly at Nemeth's royals._

_Two knights stood in front of the rest, directly before Morgana and King Odin. The taller of the pair was Odin's highest ranking knight, and he had brought the other before them for news regarding activity at Nemeth's border._

_"Go on, tell them what you told me," the taller knight urged._

_"This better be worth my time," Morgana sneered. "The Princess and I have plans to attend."_

_Odin frowned at his new ally's behavior and nodded at his knight for permission to speak._

_"Your Highness, My Lady," the nervous knight addressed them each with a nod. "There a knight of Camelot inside Nemeth's border. I think he may have seen you take Princess Mithian captive."_

_"A single knight?" Morgana asked. "I hope you dispatched him quickly before he could go back and warn Arthur."_

_The man fidgeted under her glare. "It... it isn't that simple, my Lady."_

_"Where is the rest of your patrol, Sir Ian?" Odin asked._

_"Dead, my Lord. All five of them."_

_At this, Morgana scoffed and turned away from the group. She approached King Rodor's throne and lounged across the seat._

_"You mean to say a single knight took out five men?" Odin asked._

_"Your Highness," the taller knight interrupted, "the knight was not alone. Sir Ian said he had a servant with him."_

_"A servant, you say?" Morgana asked, interest piqued. "What manner of knight brings a servant to accompany him? What did this 'knight' look like?"_

_"He had blond hair and appeared to be about your age, my Lady," Sir Ian said._

_"And the servant?"_

_"Dark hair. Perhaps a couple years younger than the knight."_

_"What was he wearing?" Morgana asked._

_"Wearing, my Lady?" Sir Ian asked in confusion._

_"Yes," Morgana snapped as she straightened in her seat. "How was the servant clothed?"_

_"Erm... normal peasant clothes, I suppose. I didn't really get a good look at it! Though..." He frowned and seemed to be trying to remember something. "I think he may have been wearing a red scarf around his neck?"_

_Morgana took a deliberate breath through her nose and gripped the throne's arms tightly. "Did this _knight_ and his servant say anything? Perhaps the knight and his servant seemed more familiar with each other than a noble and his servant ought to be?"_

_Sir Ian frowned. "I suppose they were mocking each other a bit as they fought us."_

_"Fool!" Morgana roared as she strode over to the man. "That was King Arthur and his idiot servant Merlin that you saw in the woods and you allowed them to escape with their lives. My brother is probably amassing an army against us at this very moment."_

_"I told you that you would not get away with this," Mithian said. "Camelot will not abandon Nemeth. I hope Arthur and Merlin make you pay."_

_Morgana snapped her head toward the Princess and glared. "Silence!" With a wave of her hand, Mithian went skidding across the floor and hit her head._

_Rodor crawled to her side and attempted to her._

_"I think King Arthur has other things to worry about at the moment," Sir Ian said. "His servant used magic! It's how he defeated the others!"_

_Morgana's eyes grew wide. "Merlin used magic?" she repeated._

_Sir Ian nodded. "And from the look of it, King Arthur had never seen him use magic before."_

_"What kind of magic did he use?"_

_"He threw me ten meters through the air rather easily," Sir Ian said. "I think he may have used magic to fight the other knights, as well. His movements were far too fast for a knight, let alone an untrained servant."_

_"So he's powerful, then?" Morgana asked quietly._

_The knight nodded again. "I had to run. He would have killed me."_

_"What a shame he didn't," the witch hissed. "_Atæse!_" A dagger dislodged from it's place on the other knight's belt and lodged itself in Sir Ian's heart._

_Without sparing the dead knight another moment, Morgana turned away and began to pace the floor of the throne room. No one, not even Odin, dared say anything. Two men grabbed Sir Ian's body and ushered it from the room._

_Morgana reached into her dress pocket to withdraw a small potion bottle. She scrutinized the liquid for a while before throwing it across the room, where it shattered against the wall. "The old man," she said. "I knew I recognized him! Those eyes were so familiar. It must have been Merlin using the very enchantment I'd planned to cast on my way to Camelot."_

_She turned to Odin with fury lighting her eyes. "Our plan has to change. Gather your men. We go after Arthur and his pet sorcerer now."_

_Odin smiled with grim satisfaction. "Good. The sooner we rid the world of Arthur Pendragon, the better."_

_As Morgana stormed out of the room, its occupants cleared the center to avoid her path. Once she made it to a balcony that looked out toward Nemeth, she gripped the railing and shut her eyes. For a few minutes, her only movements were the erratic breaths she sucked in through her nose. A breeze tousled her already untidy hair and Morgana threw her head back. "EMRYS!" she shrieked to the sky in rage._

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**So Morgana finally knows who Emrys is, which, of course, is bad news for Merlin. I'm horribly sorry to leave you all with that cliffhanger for a little over a week! I will try my hardest to get the next chapter finished when I have finished my finals. Let me know what you think!**


	13. In which the fight begins

**Thank you for the reviews and alerts since my last visit to . I'm so sorry to have taken a bit longer than planned updating. I somehow managed to avoid fanfiction during my final exams, which actually went very well. Thank you so much to those of you who wished me luck! **

**This chapter took a bit longer to write and I'm not very satisfied with it. It's probably my least favorite thus far, mostly because I'm not content with my skill at writing fast-paced action . I could happily write a long, meandering story with plenty of bromance, humor and shenanigans, but give me an intense action scene to write and I just get stuck. It's definitely something I wish to improve on.**

**Fortunately, this chapter is followed by some of my favorite chapters, so I decided to stop agonizing over it any longer. Hopefully, I can get the next chapter up in a few days to make up for this one.**

**Anyway, on with the story. Please review!**

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Arthur had never woken feeling quite so disoriented after one of his visions, but he was struck by the unfamiliar sensation that morning. His head felt heavy and the memories from his dream were a bit hazy as he attempted to make sense of the bits that he could recall.

Morgana was fuming–of that Arthur was sure–and it felt as if her ire was happening at that very moment. Something quite significant had happened and it had something to do with a pair of eyes. Of course, this piece of information only served to confuse Arthur further.

As he lay there trying to grasp at the fading images, he heard laughter from nearby. A glance around the camp revealed that his three remaining companions were awake and sitting around the campfire. Both Merlin and Percival were laughing at a sour-faced Gwaine as the knight gawked at his now pink cloak.

"Now that's not fair, mate," Gwaine said. "Not really my color."

"Oh, I think it suits you quite nicely," Merlin said.

"I have to agree with Merlin," Percival said with an approving nod.

"I think it would suit the Princess better," Gwaine suggested.

Merlin shook his head. "I am counting my blessings that Arthur has accepted my magic. I am not going to ruin that by turning his cloak pink. He might actually have my head for that!"

"At least change mine back," Gwaine said.

Merlin sighed. "If I must." He held his hand out toward the offending object. "_Bredan þæt sculdorhrægl réode_." His eyes turned gold and the cloak's color deepened to its original red.

Arthur frowned as he watched the blue return to Merlin's eyes. Morgana's voice from his dream echoed in his mind.

_"The old man. I knew I recognized him! Those eyes were so familiar."_

Arthur recalled a time when he, too, recognized the eyes of a strange old man. He wasn't sure why this was so important but it nagged on his mind as he watched Merlin joke with the knights.

"What a shame," Percival lamented as he looked at Gwaine's red cape.

A smirk occupied Gwaine's lips as he let go of the bit of cloak he'd been scrutinizing. "What else can you show us? How about turning water into ale?"

"I suppose I could probably do that," Merlin said with a shrug. When Gwaine held out his water skin hopefully, the sorcerer exclaimed, "Not here! Gwaine, you aren't drinking on a patrol."

"I think you were more fun before you were an all-powerful warlock," Gwaine complained. "Show us something else."

Merlin rolled his eyes and held his hand out to the fire. "_Upastige draca_."

A dragon rose from the flames and flapped its wings for a moment before dissipating into sparks. Both Percival and Gwaine seemed awed by the show of magic.

"Oh, you have years without magic tricks to make up to me," Gwaine said. "Just think of all the pranks we can play on the Princess and Leon! Pink cloaks will be the least of their worries. And you _will_ magic me a tankard of ale when we get home."

"For now, perhaps we should start with getting some water," Merlin said as he stood up. The sword that he had brought on his journey was attached to his belt again. Arthur noted the strangeness of seeing Merlin with a sword at his hip. The servant had never seemed attached to any weapon before and certainly the revelation of his magic should have made weapons obsolete. What need did he have for a blade when he could now openly use his magic as a defense?

"With magic?" Gwaine asked hopefully.

Merlin shook his head and snatched up the water skins that sat nearby. "From the stream just over there." He looked at Gwaine seriously. "Tag along. Maybe I will show you a trick or two on the way."

Gwaine seemed to detect the seriousness in Merlin's tone, because he followed without another word.

Arthur felt a rush of panic as he watched them disappear through the line of trees. He sat up abruptly and looked around the campsite.

"Sire, I didn't realize you were awake," Percival said. "Merlin made some stew for breakfast. We've already had some, but Merlin thought it was best to let you sleep a bit longer. There is plenty left if you are hungry."

"No," Arthur said quietly. He pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. Something was not right. He needed to remember that dream.

"Arthur?"

"I need to think," the king muttered.

A memory occupied the edges of his mind, just enough out of the way that he could not see it clearly. There was a flash of crazed green eyes and tightly-drawn lips. He could sense his sister was coming unhinged worse than he had ever seen her before.

_"Merlin used magic?" _Morgana's voice hissed in the memory.

The knight who had escaped when Merlin revealed his magic. How could he and Merlin have forgotten? Of course the man would have reported to Odin and Morgana about the incident, so it wasn't surprising that she now knew of Merlin's magic.

But that did not explain her fury. Merlin's magic would have been an irritation to her, but Arthur was sure she would have normally been thrilled to discover Arthur and Merlin were alone in a territory currently occupied by her own allies.

Arthur concentrated harder. There was still something missing. Something urgent.

_"Emrys!"_

Arthur's eyes shot open.

She knew. Morgana knew who Merlin was and she was going to exact her revenge.

"We have to get Merlin back to Camelot," he said as he snatched Excalibur up from the ground and began to stomp out the fire.

"Arthur, what's going on?" Percival asked.

"She's coming. Morgana is on her way to kill Merlin as we speak."

"Are you sure?"

Arthur untied his horse's reins where they had been tied to a tree. He checked the saddle to be sure that it was still tightly secured. "I saw it, Percival. She knows he has magic and has worked out that he is Emrys. She is coming to kill him."

The knight questioned him no further as he called out for the two missing men and prepared his own horse.

Less than a minute later, both Merlin and Gwaine hurried through the trees.

"What's happened?" Merlin asked.

Arthur barely had time to notice that Merlin's sword was now in Gwaine's possession before an unnatural howl sounded in the distance. All four men turned their heads in the direction of the sound just as a second beast howled.

"That was no ordinary wolf," Gwaine said warily.

"I'm willing to bet it's Morgana," Arthur said. "She knows who Merlin is. We have to go _now_."

Merlin's eyes grew wide. "You should all go. I can hold off whatever she sent for us."

"Oh, shut up, you self-sacrificing idiot," Arthur growled. "Get on your damn horse. No one is leaving you here."

"Arthur, if she has sent magical creatures after us, I stand the best chance against them."

Arthur glared at him. "I like our chances of outrunning them better." When the warlock did not make a move to follow, Arthur grabbed him roughly by the arm and shoved him toward the horses. "Mount. Your. Horse."

"Fine," Merlin snapped as he stalked away to climb his mare. "We can do this the hard way."

The next howl sounded much closer than the previous and branches were snapping as something large moved toward them.

"They're moving fast," Gwaine said, climbing atop his own horse.

"We must go now!" Arthur urged.

No one else wasted anymore time as they raced back toward Camelot, but it was hardly a minute before Arthur heard a growl close behind him. He turned his head to look just as an enormous wolf the size of his steed came into view, its eyes glowing the same supernatural gold that lit a sorcerer's eyes while casting an enchantment. Arthur drew Excalibur and prepared for the unnaturally-large wolf to charge at him.

"_Ástríce!_" Merlin shouted, sending the beast backward into a tree.

The reprieve from the wolf's attack was short, though, as two more sprinted past it in pursuit of the four men. The first one shook its massive head and quickly joined back in the deadly race.

"They're after me," Merlin tried again. "Let me handle this and I will meet you back in Camelot."

"Absolutely not," Arthur said.

"We're in this together, mate," Gwaine said.

"I'm serious!" Merlin said as he waved his hand behind him, throwing one wolf into another. Like the first, the resilient creatures did not stay down for long.

"So are we," Gwaine told him.

"Watch out!" Percival warned as one of the wolves came closer to the other knight.

"Gwaine!" Merlin said. "Galatine!"

"Why am I always being chased by wild dogs?" the knight bemoaned as he drew the sword given to him by the warlock. Just as the giant wolf caught up alongside his horse and snapped its gruesome jaws toward the steed's flank, he thrust the sword downward into the creature's neck. The wolf yelped and Gwaine tore the sword out in time to avoid being dragged down with the collapsing weight of the beast.

"Looks like I'm winning," he said.

But there was no time for him to revel in his apparent success. As the two remaining wolves approached, a new one leapt in front of the men's path, forcing Percival and Gwaine to divert sharply to the right. It chased after them as the others forced Merlin and Arthur in the opposite direction.

"Damn it!" Arthur growled.

"_Ástríce!_"

Arthur wished Merlin's attacks would do more than momentarily stun their pursuers. He wondered if it would have been better had they remained at the campsite to face off against them where Merlin did not have to divide his attention between spells and riding a panicked horse.

The king slashed at a wolf that had caught up to him, but it ducked beneath the path of his sword. A moment later, he was thrown from his horse as the beast ripped into its hind leg. When he got his bearings and reached for his lost sword, the wolf was leaping for him, its jaws ready to tear into the flesh of his throat.

"Arthur!"

Arthur was sure he would never be so happy for Merlin's magic as he was at the moment that the monster flew into a tree twenty feet away. His fingers found Excalibur's grip and he leapt to his feet, running to stab the wolf before it could shake itself from Merlin's stunning spell. He thrust Excalibur hilt-deep into its heart and twisted as the wolf writhed and whimpered in agony.

When Arthur turned around, Merlin had dismounted his horse and was standing over him with both hands extended out toward the second beast. "_Ic her aciege ænne windræs!_" he roared._ "Færblæd wawe! Windræs ungetermed: gehiere! Ic ðe bebiede mid ealle strangnesse ðæt ðu geblæwest ond sierest strange! Ge spurne þeos déor!_"

A whirlwind picked the creature up and flung it away from them, and Merlin wasted no time in finishing it off. He caught sight of the dagger still strapped to the saddle of the king's dead steed and flung it at the wolf with a single word. "_Fleoge._"

As the wolf's throat was carved by the blade, Arthur heard the voice he had been dreading all of this time.

"_Ontende eallne þæs drycræftes his sawle!_"

"No!" Merlin's eyes were wide as he spun to look behind Arthur.

Arthur followed his friend's gaze to see Morgana standing in the entrance to the small clearing with a small effigy of wood and cloth set aflame in her hand. She calmly watched the men with cruel eyes and a firm set of her jaw.

"_Forþ fleoge_," Merlin said with a wave of his hand, but Arthur could hear the frantic tone in his voice even before he saw Merlin's magic have no effect.

Morgana smirked then as her effigy's flame went out. "How does it feel having the tables turned, Emrys?" Her eyes lit gold and sent both Arthur and Merlin slamming into trees behind them. They both slid to the ground groaning.

"Do you enjoy being powerless?" Morgana asked. Her eyes flashed again and Merlin's head whipped sideways into the tree. "You really are pathetic without your magic, aren't you?"

Merlin scowled at the witch. He wiped away blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his jacket sleeve and shakily stood. "Are you too afraid of my true power for a fair fight, Morgana?"

Her mouth pressed into a hard line. "I care not about a fair fight. I only wish to see you suffer as you have caused me to." Morgana held her open hand out toward Merlin and slowly began to close it into a fist. "_Gesweorc, hine beclyppe_."

Merlin made a small choking noise and began tugging at the scarf around his neck. When Merlin fell to his knees, Arthur growled and charged at Morgana.

Without moving, Morgana flicked her golden eyes toward Arthur and hissed a spell. "_Tæfle._"

The king was only vaguely aware of Merlin's desperate gasps for breath as he sunk into darkness.

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**Well, if you've gotten this far despite the rather weak chapter, I thank you and promise a much better chapter soon!**

**Next on "Fighting Fate"**

**Nightmares become reality**


	14. In which choices are troublesome things

**Thank you for your reviews last chapter. You are all so wonderful and really brighten my day. I'm glad that many of you seemed to enjoy the last chapter more than I did. I'm much more confident in this chapter, though many of you may hate me for the horrible cliff-hanger I left at the end. I daresay it could be more of a nail-biter than the last one. ****I promise that the next chapter will not be far behind, though!**

**Just a quick note on the title of this chapter: You probably noticed it is a play on one of my favorite scenes between Arthur and Merlin. I quite like the idea of substituting "destinies" with "choices." Though this story is mostly about Arthur learning to accept magic, it has also evolved as I have written to be about how choice actually guides destiny (more on that in later chapters). At least, in my head, that's what I've tried to make it about. Hopefully, I succeed in that :)**

**Please read and review. Enjoy!**

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The world was strangely dim and gray as Arthur tried to assess his surroundings. His head felt rather heavy where it rested on the ground and his limbs tingled as they roused back to life. Everything sounded a bit like he was hearing with his head under water, but that couldn't possibly be right—he was breathing and unmistakably dry.

Just as he was about to resign himself to sleep, a cry pierced through the haziness of his mind.

Merlin. He was in danger. He was in pain. He needed Arthur.

The king pushed himself up with shaking arms and gazed around at his surroundings. Color slowly seeped back into the picture and he saw Morgana crouched over a body a few meters away. The witch held the hilt of a dagger embedded in the shoulder of her unfortunate victim.

It took Arthur a moment to connect the screams with the body, but then he saw a familiar pair of boots and looked around his sister to see Merlin's bloodied face.

Merlin seemed even less alert than Arthur—whether due to the pain from the dagger or the head wound that leaked blood over his right temple, Arthur did not know—but his cries of pain were sharp and loud. His eyes were squeezed tight and his arms were fighting against an unseen force that pinned them to the ground. If Arthur had to guess, Morgana was using magic to restrain Merlin.

"Does it hurt, Emrys?" Morgana sneered triumphantly.

Merlin's eyes opened just a fraction, but there was plenty of defiance in his glare. "Go... to... hell."

Arthur thought he saw gold flash in Merlin's eyes, but nothing seemed to come of his attempts at magic. He wondered if Merlin's magic was waging a battle against whatever binding spell Morgana had cast on him. Arthur could not wait for Merlin's power to win that battle, though. He would have to act if he had any hope of saving Merlin's life.

Morgana laughed into the air and leaned closer to Merlin. She was talking softly to the injured warlock and the king strained to hear what she said. Her words were lost on Arthur, but Merlin's bellow as she twisted the dagger was not.

Arthur pushed himself into a crouch and reached for his fallen sword. "Do not touch him, Morgana," he warned.

The witch turned to face him with a cruel smile. "Arthur. So nice of you to join the party." Her eyes flashed gold and Arthur felt himself frozen in his ready-to-attack position.

"Leave Arthur alone," Merlin begged.

Morgana did not even spare him a glance as she leisurely approached the king. "Oh, don't worry about Arthur. I promised to save him for Odin so long as I can do as I please with you. I don't have to kill him myself to have his throne, and I will take much more pleasure in destroying you, Emrys."

"Why do you have so much hate for the people who once cared for you?" Arthur asked. "Is the throne really worth that much to you? Worth betraying and losing people you loved? I know you were our friend once, Morgana. I can't accept that it was all false."

Morgana crouched before him so that their eyes were level. "Do you really think this is just about a throne?" she growled. "That _I_ am the one who betrayed all of you when he has been lying to you all along? He lied to you before I even knew well enough to hate you."

"He lied to save his life," Arthur said, "all the while protecting me and Camelot."

She tilted her head slightly in feigned amusement. "So he's told you _everything_, then?" she asked skeptically.

Arthur glared at her. "I know enough."

"Did he tell you how he pushed me to this? That he made me your enemy?"

"Arthur," Merlin gasped fearfully.

"Did he tell you that he tried to kill me?" Morgana continued over Merlin's desperate plea to be heard. "I was innocent then. My only crime was that I wanted Uther to pay for hating my kind. I had not even acted against him."

"I had to, Arthur," Merlin said frantically. He pushed himself to his hands and knees and hissed at the pain in his shoulder. "If I didn't, Camelot would have perished. I had to make an impossible choice!"

Morgana rolled her eyes. "It was not my fault that Morgause used me to spread that plague. I didn't even know that I was the source. I only thought that my magic had saved my life." She looked back over her at Merlin. "But you knew, didn't you Merlin?"

"I only did what I had to!" Merlin insisted.

"I didn't want to see any of my friends die," Morgana went on, looking back at Arthur. "Just Uther. But the plague was not my choice. I was _innocent_, and Merlin tricked me into drinking poison. He betrayed me and punished me for a crime that was not mine."

Arthur's head throbbed as he realized what they were talking about: the sleeping plague that had infected all of Camelot but Morgana. He recalled Morgause's "capture" of their shared sister and the look of horror and—he now understood—guilt on Merlin's face as the two witches disappeared. The king wondered if Morgana had truly been in the dark about the enchantment. Despite her hatred and crazed demeanor, something about her tale made Arthur believe her claim was in earnest. Merlin certainly was not refuting her innocence, even as he argued the necessity of his actions.

"The dragon said it was the only way to reverse the spell," Merlin said. "I had to destroy the vessel."

Morgana screwed her eyes shut and curled her lip in a snarl. "You could have given me a choice!" she shrieked at him.

Had she been given the choice, would she have chosen to save her friends, though? Just the night earlier, Merlin had said that she had been on the edge between good and evil when he betrayed her. Perhaps had she known, she would have chosen the poison herself. Had Arthur been in Morgana's shoes, he knew what he would have chosen. And he was certain that Merlin would have also given his own life for Camelot without a second thought. He was braver and more selfless than any knight.

Arthur tried to think back to the Morgana who had been his friend. The one who was passionate about doing the right thing and protecting those who could not protect themselves. The young woman who rode to protect a village of peasants in another kingdom before Arthur himself had been bold enough to do so. Surely, that Morgana would have sacrificed herself for others.

But she was also obstinate and impetuous in her opposition of Uther. And Arthur had to consider that those traits combined with Morgause's influence might have been enough to blind her to the right thing.

Without knowing the entirety of the story, Arthur understood that Merlin had done what was necessary. One life was not more important than the whole of Camelot and it was too late now to wonder what Morgana would have chosen.

"If it had not been for Morgause," the witch said after the long silence, "I would be dead."

"I wanted to help you," Merlin said. "If I could do anything in my life differently, it would be that moment. I didn't want you to die and I didn't want to make you hate me."

Morgana's eyes blazed with fury as she snarled at him. "You had betrayed me long before that, Merlin. When I was discovering my magic and was terrified, you knew. And yet you allowed me to feel alone and ashamed while the threat of Uther loomed over my head."

Merlin shook his head. "The dragon had warned me against telling you. Back then, I did not want to believe that you would become this, but the doubt kept me from revealing myself to you."

"So instead of helping me—_your kin_—you chose to protect a tyrant responsible for the genocide of our people?"

"I chose to protect _Arthur_."

"It's the same thing!" she screeched manically. She shot up, the tattered ends of her dress whipping Arthur in the face as she turned and stalked halfway to the warlock.

"Far from it. You are more like Uther than Arthur will ever be. You have his same narrow mind and bitter hatred in your heart. As far as I am concerned, you are the one who has betrayed magic. You could have done so much good with your abilities, Morgana, but look what you've chosen."

"Chosen?" she hissed. "What choice did I have? You lied to me and poisoned me. Uther denied me my birthright. Gaius tried to hide my abilities from me. Even Guinevere went running off to her beloved Arthur the moment I gave her the opportunity to prove her loyalty. Everyone I once loved and trusted turned against me. And then you took Morgause from me as well!"

Merlin slowly pushed himself to his feet and gripped at his bleeding shoulder. Though he was clearly in a lot of pain, he stood proudly and glared at Morgana. "There is always a choice, though I do partially blame myself for what you've become. I regret that I could not save you from yourself and there is not a day that goes by when I do not wonder if I could have guided you down the right patch. For what it's worth, I am very sorry that I failed as your friend. But your treachery and evil in the years since has been your own."

"And it will be your undoing. Tell me, Merlin—do you fear death?"

Merlin's jaw tightened as he narrowed his eyes. "No."

Morgana glowered. "Well, you should fear me."

"No, Morgana. I _pity_ you."

"You will pay for your insolence!"

She turned back to the frozen king and Merlin held his hand out toward her. "_Forþ fleoge."_

But his magic was still too weak from the binding spell, and Morgana waved off his spell without difficulty. She came to a stop before Arthur and roughly grabbed his face with one hand, forcing him to meet her eyes, before her fingertips came to rest on his temple.

"No!" Merlin shouted. He tried to pulled her away from his friend, but he was also physically weakened by his injuries.

Morgana shook him off her arm and concentrated on Arthur's face. "_Wielde his eorðfæt, ágéngehwierf Arthur mín ecgbanan_."

Arthur's body suddenly stood upright of it's own accord. He tried to slash at the witch before him, but he could not make his limb move.

Morgana smiled wickedly. "Bow," she ordered.

He tried with all his might to resist the urge that tingled up his spine, but the battle was lost in moments as he bowed to her.

Morgana turned to the warlock, who was struggling back to his own feet.

"Isn't it lovely, Merlin?" Morgana asked with false sweetness. "I no longer require the help of a Fomorroh to control a man's actions. And this way is much more gratifying because Arthur's mind will be his own as he slaughters you."

"Please leave him alone, Morgana," Merlin said quietly. His eyes held Arthur's steadily.

"Merlin, you must run," Arthur commanded.

"Oh, please do try," Morgana said as she walked backwards away from the pair. "A chase will only make this that much more enjoyable."

"I won't leave you to die," Merlin said.

"Please, Merlin," Arthur begged. "Don't let me do this. Run. I cannot live with your blood on my hands."

"If it is any consolation," Morgana said. "I doubt you will live long. Odin's army is not _that_ far behind me." She looked between the two men, both of them urging the other with his eyes. No one said a word for a while and she rolled her eyes. "Oh, that's quite enough. If you are not going to run, Merlin, let's just make this quick. Arthur, eviscerate him. I want to see his insides spilled on the forest floor."

"Merlin!" Arthur cried. He again fought against the unnatural urge flowing though his body, but he took a step toward Merlin against his own will. "Can you use your magic?"

Merlin's eyes lit gold but nothing else happened. "I can feel it there, just under the surface but the binding magic is still strong."

"Then go," Arthur insisted.

Merlin said nothing as he took a step back for each step Arthur took forward.

"Merlin, I cannot resist for much longer," Arthur groaned. He could feel Morgana's will bending his own. Every muscle in Arthur's body was taught with the effort to hold back. He was forced to take another step toward his manservant. "You have to run."

Arthur recognized the look on Merlin's face—his jaw clenched, chin jutted forward and nostrils flaring. It was a look Merlin often wore when refusing one of Arthur's orders, typically before running into danger with him. "I'll not leave you with her," Merlin said, wincing as his attempt to stand straighter and show his defiance jarred his injured shoulder.

The king's stomach dropped as realized that Merlin probably would not make it far in his state if he did run. The head injury was obviously still affecting his balance a bit and his shoulder had bled a great deal.

"You must try harder to reach your magic, then." Arthur's sword came up between them and Merlin backed up a step. "Stop me or run, Merlin. Don't just stand there and let me kill you."

Morgana laughed haughtily at the scene. "Yes, Emrys. Show us your legendary magic, if you can. Defeat your king, before he destroys you."

"You can stop this happening," Arthur told Merlin. "The visions... You can change fate right now, Merlin."

Merlin shook his head. "Not by harming you. I already told you, prat, my magic is only to protect you. I won't use it against you, even if I could access it right now. And I will not leave you."

"You stubborn idiot!" Arthur's feet were compelled forward and his grip tightened on the hilt of his sword. "Don't you ever do as you're told?"

The corners of Merlin's mouth twitched upward. "You know I don't."

"You cannot protect me, if you won't protect yourself." Another step forward. "We are supposed to be changing our fates, Merlin. Don't you remember?"

"I remember that you made me a promise." A step back. "I hope you intend to keep it."

"Merlin—"

"I am growing bored with this conversation," Morgana said. "Let's move on to the killing, shall we?"

"Not if I can help it, witch," Arthur growled, even as he took another step toward Merlin.

"That's just the thing, though." Morgana walked until she had stopped just behind the King. She slid her hand up Arthur's back until she gripped his shoulder, digging her fingers in. She whispered her incantation again and he felt the last of his control drain from his body. Morgana's mouth came to his ear, and she hissed, "You _cannot _help it, dear brother."

"Merlin!" Arthur yelled as he strode forward against his will.

Merlin scrambled backward and found himself against a tree. "It's going to be alright."

"No." Arthur's eyes filled with tears and his sword swung back and then thrust forward into Merlin's midsection. Morgana's laugh cut through the air as Arthur drove the sword deeper, pinning Merlin to the tree behind him. "No!"

Merlin widened his eyes in pain. "Arthur," he gasped, blood dribbling out the corner of his mouth. He brought his hands to the sword's hilt in a weak attempt to push it away.

"I am so sorry," Arthur said, driving the sword deeper still with a strength he did not regularly possess. "I'm sorry."

"Remember your promise," Merlin said. He winced and coughed more blood. His eyelids began to droop.

"So much for the mighty Emrys," Morgana cackled. "Felled by a sword of a foolish king. I—"

Her exclamation of triumph was cut off by her own gasp of pain. Arthur looked to see the point of a sword protruding from her chest.

"I wouldn't be so quick to laugh if I were you, Morgana," said the person behind her.

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**Please don't hate me! I promise to update very soon. I waited until the next chapter was nearly finished to post this one, because I don't want to leave you hanging for too long.**

******And before anyone worries too much about Merlin, don't count him out yet!**

**Anyway, who do you think our mystery person is? I suppose it shouldn't _really_ be much of a mystery at this point.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	15. In which there is peace in death

**Thanks so much to everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter. Sorry that I didn't have time to respond individually to any reviews this time around, but so many of you left comments and I felt an earlier update was in order. Thank you for sticking with me long enough to see Arthur's nightmares become reality**

**A few of you guessed the mystery person correctly. The clue I dropped in an earlier chapter is actually a reference to a bit of lesser-known Arthurian legend not used in the television series. It still is not fully explained in this chapter (next chapter it will be, and it has to do with a scene I have been waiting to post in "Protecting the Prat"). Check out the word "Galatine," if you are curious.**

**On another note, there were comments shared among some guest reviewers that I don't want to ignore. Please know that I'm only writing this story for my own enjoyment (and to share with anyone else who might enjoy it as well) with events that I could have liked to see happen in the show. It may not be everyone's cup of tea. Is it emotionally driven by an overlarge dose of bromance? Most likely. Those are the scenes and episodes I like watching most. They're the stories I like reading most. And they're what I enjoy writing most. If you see a problem with characterization, I will gladly accept constructive criticism as I go along. Please DO share your thoughts on things such as this. I even changed a significant part of the story early on thanks to a helpful reviewer and I am happy to improve in areas that people point out to me. **

**_**However, I really hope that reviewers will treat each other with respect in the future, regardless of their views on this story. If you don't like the story, that's quite alright. Please don't bash someone else for enjoying it, though. Disagreeing with a comment is one thing, but no one needs to be rude. I don't think the review section of any story is an appropriate place for attacking other readers and I have removed particularly nasty comments made by one reviewer toward another.**_**

**I'm not going to get defensive about reviews you leave on my story, but I really don't want to see people being rude to each other regarding this story. It's just fan fiction. That said... If you hate the entire story ****_that_**** much, though, you probably shouldn't keep reading. I doubt it will grow on you at this point! It's just a bit of fun for me. No hard feelings if you don't want to read it.**

**Anyway, on with the chapter, before it's surrounded in more Author's note than there is story.**

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"I wouldn't be so quick to laugh if I were you, Morgana."

Arthur turned his head at the sound of the new voice to find the point of a sword protruding from Morgana's chest. Her eyes were wide for a moment before the tip was gone and she collapsed forward to the ground, revealing Gwaine and his bloody sword. The magical hold over Arthur's body instantly faded as Gwaine cried Merlin's name.

Arthur looked back at his servant and released the hilt of the sword. "No... I..." He stared down at his hands in terror. "Merlin, I'm sorry."

Gwaine pushed past his king to assess the damage caused by the sword. "No. If I had been here a moment sooner..."

Merlin shook his head and offered a weak smile. "Percival?" he whispered.

"On his way," Gwaine informed him. "He's hurt. No badly, but enough to slow him down. I think his leg is broken. I tried to get here as quickly as I could after we got split up, but our horses were killed before we felled the beast." The knight swallowed nervously and stared at Merlin's wound. "You've been dealt a mortal blow. Can you heal yourself?"

"Too weak," Merlin said. "I'm usually pretty rubbish... at healing spells on a good day."

"What good are you for, then?" the knight quipped half-heartedly.

"Not much," Merlin replied. He hissed and slouched a bit. "Ah!"

Gwaine squeezed Merlin's shoulder and forced the younger man to meet his eyes. "I am going to remove the sword, Merlin."

Merlin shook his head. "I'll bleed out..."

"You're in pain, my friend," Gwaine said, and Arthur heard the unspoken words there. _It will be quicker._

Again, Merlin shook his head. "Not yet." He groaned as he tried to shift and his eyes rolled over his surroundings in what seemed to be confusion. Arthur swallowed the lump in his throat as they finally fell on him. "Arthur."

Arthur could feel the blood rushing in his head and heard Merlin's words as if through water. He tried to will himself to wake from this nightmare, as he had so many times before, because this could not possibly be reality. There was no way that Merlin was dying, that Gwaine was trying to convince him to make it quicker and less painful, that Arthur had Merlin's blood on his hands.

But he would not wake. He was caught in this horrific scene and Merlin was looking at him for some sort of response. He wanted to say something meaningful and kingly at that moment, but all that could come out was a desperate apology. "I'm sorry that I was not strong enough to resist her, and I'm sorry that I led us here. I have failed you."

More blood appeared on Merlin's lips. "Your promise," he whispered.

"Albion needs you, too."

Merlin said nothing else as his breathing became more labored. His hands fumbled at the hilt of the sword again and Arthur came forward to take hold of them.

"You can't die," Arthur pleaded.

This wasn't right. Merlin was a good person. A kinder person than Arthur, surely—maybe even a braver person. He was not supposed to die yet. Albion needed him, perhaps more than it needed its king. After all, what kind of king would Arthur have been had it not been for Merlin's influence? The young peasant had changed him a great deal over the years, guiding him to make the right choices for his people and his heart. Without Merlin, Arthur may have followed in Uther's footsteps. Without Merlin, there would be no Albion or Gwen for Arthur. Merlin had saved Arthur in a way that was much more important than merely protecting his life.

There had to be a way to save Merlin's life now. Perhaps if Merlin could not heal himself with magic, someone else could.

"I cannot let you die." He looked down at the sword in Merlin's stomach. "Teach me the healing spell."

Merlin frowned in confusion.

"What?" Gwaine asked incredulously.

"Gaius said that the Horn left lingering traces of magic on me, right Merlin? Well, then, teach me to use it. Tell me the words I must say."

"Not that easy," Merlin said.

"Then try to use your magic as well," Arthur said. "There isn't time to waste. Just tell me. Let me try."

Merlin fixed him a skeptical look. "_Gesta_..." He trailed off coughing. "_Gestathole thurhhaele_."

"_Gestathole thurhhaele_?" Arthur repeated, trying to stir any bit of magic that might be inside him. Unfortunately, he wasn't quite sure what it should feel like.

Merlin shut his eyes and nodded.

"Alright. Gwaine, remove the sword. Do it as quickly and cleanly as possible. We will only have moments to do this right."

Gwaine squeezed Merlin's shoulder again. "Merlin, I... Well, I'd tell you but I don't think it really needs saying, does it?" He waited a moment for the small ghost of a smile to appear on Merlin's face. "Shall we?"

Arthur nodded and pinned Merlin's chest to the tree with his arm. Gwaine gripped the sword's hilt with both hands. "On three?"

"Three!" Gwaine shouted as he pulled the sword with all of his strength.

Merlin screamed as Excalibur was pulled from his body. The moment it was gone, he collapsed against Arthur, who guided him gently to the ground. Merlin struggled to breathe and looked around wildly.

"Support his head," Arthur commanded the knight. He placed his own hands on Merlin's wounds and tried again to draw forth the magic. "_Gestathole thurhhaele_," he said.

Nothing happened, save for Merlin's breath hitching again. Gwaine had pulled his head into his lap and was muttering reassurances to their dying friend.

Arthur growled and tried again. "_Gestathole thurhhaele_." Nothing. "_Gestathole thurhhaele!_"

Merlin couldn't breathe and his lifeblood was still pouring out of him. "Ar-rthur..." He was going to die.

"No," Arthur said. "Not today, Merlin!"

He shut his eyes and concentrated on his own breathing and the feel of Merlin's blood flowing past his fingers. He thought of Merlin's magic, so strong and natural that it must be in the very blood that was leaving him now. He thought of the blue orb that had once saved him and the warmth that he had felt from its presence. It was all the same: the orb, the magic, the blood. When he concentrated, he could feel the magic thrumming around him in the wind and the leaves and the trees.

Arthur took a deep breath and tried to place where he felt it in himself. A warmth grew in his chest, and the words suddenly burst from his mouth. "_Gestathole! Thurhhaele!_"

The warmth was in his chest, his arms, his fingertips. The magic was everywhere and everything. It was terrifying and wonderful. Strange and familiar. Formidable and comforting.

Arthur wondered vaguely if Merlin, who had magic all the time, always felt this overwhelming flood of sensations from the world around him. It was actually rather distracting while he tried to focus.

"Arthur, something is happening!"

The King opened his eyes to see a glow emanating from Merlin's wound. The flesh appeared to be mending itself. Arthur held his breath and looked at Merlin's sweat-soaked face. He watched the color return slightly to Merlin's cheeks.

The warmth of the magic left Arthur as the healing glow faded away. Arthur felt an emptiness where he realized the magic had been, and he suspected that whatever magic the Horn had left on him was no longer his, the finite store spent on healing his friend. And, though he was grateful for its usefulness in saving Merlin, he was glad to be rid of it. He felt more like himself than he had in weeks.

"It worked," Gwaine laughed. "It really worked."

And he was right. If not for the bloody tunic, there would have been no sign that Merlin had been stabbed.

"Merlin?" The younger man did not stir, and Arthur had to lean an ear above Merlin's mouth to confirm that he was still breathing. "I think he is sleeping."

"Or passed out from the pain," Gwaine said. "We should get him back to Camelot. Who knows if your little magic trick has repaired all of the damage. Even so, he's lost a fair amount of blood. He may need medical attention yet."

Arthur nodded and looked around them. "We need to leave before Odin—"

He stopped as he caught sight of Morgana's open eyes staring at him. She was alive and trying to push herself upright. Her hand held the wound where Gwaine's sword had run her through. Blood trickled past her fingers and was spattered on her pale lips.

"You have magic?" she whispered in disbelief.

Arthur said nothing as he met her piercing gaze. Her eyes—filled with both rage and sadness—were wet with unshed tears.

"Why would you condemn those with magic if you have it yourself?"

The king allowed Gwaine to support Merlin fully as he picked up Excalibur and approached the sorceress. He crouched a few feet away from her and sat the sword across his knees.

"Why, Arthur?" Morgana repeated bitterly.

"Until recently, the magic I have known was the magic you used for destruction and greed."

She scoffed and spit blood onto the ground. "Your hatred of magic existed long before my hatred for you. Uther poisoned your mind when you were young."

"I was ignorant, yes, but you could have taught me better. You were my friend. I loved you, Morgana. I trusted you. Could you not have trusted me to love you still, to see that Father was wrong about magic? Merlin was right that this path was your choice. You could have chosen friendship and loyalty. You could have helped make Camelot a place of acceptance. Instead, you plagued it with fear and rejected the people who loved you."

"Acceptance?" Morgana laughed humorlessly. "Such an easy claim as I lay dying, isn't it, Arthur?"

Arthur considered her for a moment and wondered if the girl he had grown up with was still there at all. A face that had once been soft and kind had grown harsh and cruel. She hardly resembled the woman he once knew at all. In some ways, it was easier to separate them as if they were two different people: Morgana his friend and Morgana his sister. It was a shame that his sister was the less friendly of the two, especially when she was all that remained of his blood relatives.

He looked over at Merlin's prone form and thought of the fear associated with possessing magical abilities. How terrible it must have been to live under Uther when Morgana's natural talents had first developed. Maybe in a different time under a different king, Morgana could have become more like Merlin.

Arthur set Excalibur on the ground beside him and pulled Morgana into his arms. He was surprised that she did not struggle, even as she gasped at the pain it caused her.

"I could try healing you like I did Merlin," he said hopefully, though he knew it would be of no use. "Change is coming to Camelot. I now know that uniting Albion cannot be done while oppressing its people. I don't wish to make enemies of anyone based on their beliefs and practices... and especially not because of their natural-born abilities. I do not want to rule a kingdom where people like you and Merlin must fear for your lives because you were born with gifts. You do not have to be alone anymore, Morgana. You could return to Camelot and try to change. I know there was once goodness in you, and I want to believe it can be there again."

Her eyes had softened a bit while he spoke, and she remained silent for a long moment. It appeared that a war was raging in her mind—a powerful loneliness at odds with her stubborn hubris. When she finally spoke, her voice was soft and lacked its usual haughty tone.

"You always were a sentimental fool, Arthur Pendragon," she said. "But even Emrys hasn't the magic to heal a wound from a sword that powerful."

Arthur frowned, unsure what was so special about Gwaine's sword, but Morgana continued before he could ask.

"And I would rather die than live under your rule after all you have cost me." She looked over to where Merlin was still unconscious in Gwaine's lap. "I will have my justice, though. You have not healed him completely and his life dwindles still. The traitor will die." She met Arthur's eyes with a sneer. "And Odin comes for you. You have lost."

"I am sorry that your heart has become so blackened that you can no longer accept love," Arthur told her sadly. "It does not have to be this way."

"There is no other way," she insisted. Arthur thought he saw sadness in her eyes again, a glimpse of the earnest, kind-hearted friend he had once known. Her fingers wrapped around his wrist. "Finish me quickly."

The king swallowed nervously and nodded. He shifted her weight to one arm and gripped Excalibur. "I hope you find peace in death. I truly do."

She laughed. "You will follow me soon, brother. There is no greater peace for me to find than that."

As he drove Excalibur up through her heart, his eyes never left her face. She gasped and then the life fled from her eyes.

In death, her face was as serene and beautiful as Arthur had ever seen it.

* * *

*****The following contains spoilers if you have not watched the series 5 finale*****

**While I liked the way Merlin killed Morgana and mirrored the poisoning in series 2, I really wanted Arthur and Morgana to have this final confrontation. It always bothered me how quickly Morgana forsook her friendship with Arthur once she discovered her true parentage. Up until that point in the show, I had gotten the sense that her hatred was directed at Uther for his cruelty and Merlin for his betrayal. I get that Arthur stood in the way of her claiming the throne, but Morgana flipped the evil switch a little too quickly in my opinion. I wish they could have shown her feeling a bit more conflicted about betraying Arthur.**

**I also felt like Arthur never truly got the chance to understand why Morgana became what she did. So when I thought about Arthur getting a bit of magic himself, I wanted him to come to understand not only Merlin's predicament but Morgana's, as well, and be able to compare the choices that they both made. I also wanted Morgana to get the hint that life in Camelot did not have to mean fear and persecution. Of course, she is too far gone into her madness and does not know how to exist in a world where Arthur and Camelot are not the enemy.**

**As far as Arthur goes, I think that accepting magic would allow him to consider Morgana's redemption. He has always been so devoted to family and desperately clings to his familial ties. Please note that he really only offers her redemption here knowing that he can't save her and that she would never accept it. He isn't really giving Morgana a second chance. He's mostly musing upon the "what-ifs." I do wish I had taken a bit longer to get him to this point, though. **

**Oh well, you live and you learn. And you hopefully write better fan fiction the next time around lol**

**The story is not over. I still have 4 or 5 more chapters planned out. There will be some Odin, Kilgarrah, Freya, decisions about Mordred and more to come. I think it may be a bit longer before I post the next chapter, though. I'm hitting a bit of a block with part of it, but hopefully I can work that out very soon!**


	16. In which Arthur learns about dragons

**Okay, so I have been gone for quite a while with no excuse other than a bit of writer's block and my own laziness. Definitely a lot of laziness after I finished my final exams. Anyway, this chapter ended up in just a slightly different direction than I had planned, but I felt I had to deal with Aithusa somehow. Not entirely sure how I feel about that bit, but I am satisfied with certain parts of this chapter.**

**Thank you to all who reviewed or added this story to a favorite or alert list. I truly appreciate it!**

**Irene, I would perhaps consider a story like that after I've finished if I have the right inspiration. I'll think about it :)**

**Hopefully I can get the next two or three chapters out before I travel to Ireland in a few weeks. I have a lot going on that keeps pulling me away, unfortunately. Funny how life gets busier when the semester ends. If all goes according to plan, the month of July will see this story finished. I'm not sure whether that makes me happy or a bit sad. At least I have the companion story to update at that point.**

**Anyway, I'll stop boring you all with an author's note and get on with the story!**

* * *

Arthur pulled Excalibur from his sister's body and neatly laid her on the ground with her hands folder over her midsection. As he closed her eyes, he sighed. "I cannot believe that it's over."

"Sire?"

Arthur looked up to see that Percival had finally reached the clearing. The large knight was leaning precariously on a large branch that he was using as a makeshift crutch as he came through the trees. "Is she...?"

"Gwaine defeated her," Arthur confirmed. "She is gone."

The knight nodded with a rather absent expression as he looked around the clearing. When his eyes fell upon Merlin, still unconscious in Gwaine's arms, his face fell. "Oh no," he mumbled and made his way to the pair.

"He's still alive, mate," Gwaine said. "He's been healed. _Princess_ healed him."

Percival's eyebrows shot up. "With magic?"

Gwaine grinned as the king sighed wearily. "Yes."

"Why is he still unconscious?" Percival asked.

"We aren't really sure," Arthur said with a frown. He stood and sheathed Excalibur before joining his friends across the clearing. Merlin had not shown any signs of waking yet and was still paler than usual. Arthur knew that the shoulder wound from Morgana's knife still needed to be dealt with, though it seemed to have slowed bleeding after he had healed Merlin's other wound.

The king knelt beside them and grabbed Merlin's wrist to assure himself that the pulse was present and strong. He felt the steady rhythm and relaxed a bit, though he couldn't entirely shake the nagging feeling of dread instilled by Morgana's comments. He sincerely hoped that she had only been mocking him and that Merlin's life was no longer in danger.

"We need to get out of here before Odin finds us unprotected," Gwaine said. "There is no way our reinforcements will be back before Odin's army arrives."

Arthur nodded and grabbed Merlin's uninjured shoulder, shaking it just a bit. "Sorry, Merlin, but there's no more time for you to laze about as usual."

The warlock did not respond as his head rolled back into the crook of Gwaine's elbow.

"No wonder he's always late in the mornings. I pity Gaius for putting up with him." Arthur shook him harder the second time. When that earned no reaction, the king pinched Merlin's earlobe. This time, he heard a rather pitiful moan come from the younger man.

Arthur began to worry that Merlin did not seem to be rousing just yet. "Merlin, _please_."

Finally, the warlock turned his head in the direction of his king's voice.

"That's it, Merlin," Arthur encouraged. "You need to wake up."

"Mm," Merlin mumbled before coughing weakly.

"Come on, Merlin. Let's have you, lazy daisy," Arthur said fondly, ignoring Gwaine's bemused expression.

The corners of Merlin's lips turned down as his eyelids began to flicker. He groaned as his blue eyes rolled around his surroundings for a moment before settling on Arthur. Confusion tinged his voice as he called his king's name. "Arthur?"

Arthur smiled. "There you are."

"I..." Merlin frowned again and reached for his midsection where a deep stab wound should have been. He felt around, appearing completely dumbfounded, before he tried to push himself up and hissed in pain.

"Easy now," Gwaine said as he helped Merlin to sit up completely. "Don't go hurting yourself worse."

Merlin's eyes bored into Arthur again. "You did a healing spell," he said in disbelief. "You used _magic_, Arthur."

"I'd do it a million times over to save your life," Arthur said with a warm smile.

But Merlin did not return the smile. He glared at the ground between them and seemed to be deep in thought as he tried to make sense of the situation in which he had awoken.

"Are you alright, mate?" Gwaine asked.

"Just..." Merlin took a deep breath. "I need a moment." He closed his eyes and took several controlled breaths in and out. He straightened his posture and looked around. "Is everyone alright?"

"Aside from Percival's broken leg, I think we are all relatively unharmed," Arthur said.

"And Morgana?"

"She's dead thanks to that sword of yours," Gwaine said.

Merlin offered a pitying look. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I know what she meant to you once."

Arthur squeezed his shoulder. "The safety of my friends and my kingdom means more."

"Which is why we must go," Gwaine said, "before Odin incites a war. We can hold him off with our reinforcements, but not with just the four of us here." He sat back on his haunches and retrieved his sword, clearly intending to sheath it.

"Wait," Arthur said. "There is something I wish to know. What is so special about that sword?"

Merlin sighed and held his hand out to Gwaine. "May I?"

The knight handed the sword in question to his friend, who balanced the blade atop his open palms and looked up at Arthur. "Galatine is one of the two greatest swords in existence and is an object of powerful magic."

Arthur looked at the sword, examining its grip and its blade. While it was obviously a finely-crafted piece — the hilt was made of a polished gold that also plated the fuller of the blade — he could not say that it looked particularly like a magical weapon, though.

"There are immortal creatures and beings in this world," Merlin continued, "beings born of the magic of the Old Religion who cannot be killed by the mortal weapons of men. The magic in this sword is much older, though, and is one of the few things that can vanquish the most powerful creatures of the Old Religion."

"You mean a High Priestess like Morgana," Arthur said. "And it can cause such an injury that healing magic is useless?"

Merlin nodded and shifted the sword so that it was held vertically between them. His eyes scanned down the edge of the blade. "When I went in search of Morgana, I took this sword from the armory."

Arthur raised his eyebrows and took the sword from Merlin. "You're saying a sword like this was hidden in Camelot's armory?" He stood and walked into a better-lit area in the clearing to hold the blade up to the light. The light glinted off the metal with just the slightest hint of a supernatural glow. It was so faint that it would have gone completely undetected had the king been ignorant to the magic flowing through the sword.

"It's a bit more complicated than that, I'm afraid," Merlin said. "Do you remember what I said last night... about the dragon?"

Arthur frowned and looked back at him. What _had_ Merlin said? The past two days had provided such an overload of information that he had not yet given thought to all of it. He sifted through his memory of Merlin's confessions and realized that there had indeed been something about a dragon.

And it was a rather infuriating something.

"You lied about the dragon being dead," he said flatly.

Merlin had the good grace to look ashamed of himself. "I did banish him from Camelot for quite a long while, though," he said.

"He tried to destroy Camelot!" Arthur growled.

"I forbade him from doing it again! But can you honestly blame him? Your father killed his kind and trapped him beneath a castle. What Kilgharrah did was wrong, yes, but it was done out of twenty years of built-up grief and vengefulness."

"Kilgharrah? That thing has a name?"

Merlin rolled his eyes. "Of course he has a name."

"But I don't understand why you allowed him to go free after he killed so many of our people," Arthur said. "He tried to kill _us_, you might recall."

"I'm a dragonlord, Arthur. I couldn't allow the last of my kin to die."

"Dragonlord?!"

Merlin adopted a sheepish expression as he nodded.

"Why did we go searching for a dragonlord if you were one all along?" Arthur asked.

"Because..." Merlin looked down at the ground. "I wasn't a dragonlord until we came back to Camelot. The gift is passed from father to son upon the dragonlord's death. I could not use my dragonlord abilities until my father died."

"Merlin, you told me you never knew your—Oh." Arthur watched his servant's shoulders tense. He suddenly recalled the tears in Merlin's eyes as he had held the dying dragonlord years ago. "Balinor."

Gwaine looked between the two of them. "Wait. You're saying that this dragonlord you two went searching for was Merlin's father? The same father you mentioned to me, Merlin?"

When Merlin continued to stare at the ground, Arthur answered for him. "It would appear that is the case. Merlin, I'm sorry for what I said to you that day."

The warlock met his gaze with weary eyes. "You didn't know."

"I wish that I had."

Merlin shook his head. "Arthur, don't."

Arthur sighed and decided to move the subject along for Merlin's sake. "What does the dragon have to do with the sword?"

"The sword I took from the armory was an ordinary one, but I brought it to Kilgharrah to burnish it. A weapon forged in a dragon's breath has incredible power that is unrivaled."

Arthur looked back at the sword in wonder. "And you gave it to Gwaine?"

"I had not originally intended so," Merlin said. "I was going to use it against Morgana had my magic not been enough, but then I was no longer alone and... It just seemed right that Gwaine should have Galatine if your visions came true. _Someone_ had to stop Morgana."

"But Gwaine?" Arthur asked again. "You create the most powerful weapon and you give it to _Gwaine_?"

Merlin slowly stood and came to take the sword from his hands. "There is a sword more powerful than Galatine, you know."

Arthur looked at him curiously. "Really?"

"Kilgharrah once forged another sword as a favor to me. A sword fit for a king."

"What became of this sword?" Arthur asked.

Merlin smiled. "It rests at your hip."

Arthur's eyes widened as his hand shot to Excalibur's hilt. "Dragon's breath?" He pulled Excalibur from the sheath and gawked at it. "You said that the first king of Camelot put Excalibur in that stone."

"And I told you already that I may have lied about that." Merlin looked very serious as he met Arthur's eyes. "This is the most powerful sword ever forged and it was created for you, Arthur. You are the only man deserving of it."

Arthur chest tightened as he realized what this could mean. "Merlin, Morgana said that no magic could heal her wound from Galatine. If Excalibur is more powerful, how could I have possibly healed you?"

Merlin swallowed, his gaze faltering, but he was saved from answering as a an animal's shriek broke through the air. The wind around them began to pick up and their attention was drawn up toward the sound of flapping wings.

A small white dragon was quickly descending from the sky. Though he now knew that Merlin was perfectly capable of handling a dragon, Arthur held his sword out before him and backed away from the creature.

"Aithusa!" Merlin called anxiously, but the dragon paid him now heed as it landed beside Morgana.

Aithusa, as the dragon was apparently called, shoved at the dead witch with it snout and huffed a bit at her lack of response. It moaned sadly and nudged her again.

Arthur realized that this must be the same dragon that had accompanied Morgana in Ismere. He hadn't had a good view of the creature in the dark tunnels and was surprised to see how disfigured it was. Its neck and spine seemed to bend in the wrong places and it was not entirely steady on its frail-looking legs.

The only dragon that Arthur had ever seen had been enormous and powerful, but the one before him now was nothing like that. It was a rather pitiful sight, especially as it bemoaned the death of its companion. Arthur was unsure of whether Morgana had been its master or friend, but the dragon appeared to mourn her death either way.

It lifted its head and cried to the sky in a sound of raw pain and emotion, and Arthur lowered his sword just briefly before it turned toward their group and roared.

"No!" Merlin shouted as Arthur and Gwaine prepared to defend against the dragon. "Please leave her be! I will deal with her."

Aithusa roared again and limped toward them. Merlin shielded the group with magic as the dragon breathed fire toward them.

"_Nun de ge dei s'eikein kai emois epe'essin hepesthai!_" Merlin cried in deep roar.

The dragon deflated and backed away as step.

Merlin pushed Arthur's sword down. "She won't harm any of us now," he said as he walked slowly toward the dragon. "Aithusa."

Aithusa moaned pitifully and lowered her head. She shifted her weight backward but did not step away as Merlin came to crouch in front of her.

"She's gone," Merlin said sadly and he held his hand out tentatively. "And I am very sorry."

Aithusa whined as his hand rested on her snout.

"You aren't alone, Aithusa. I'm still here."

Aithusa whined again and leaned into the touch. She shut her eyes and allowed Merlin to lean his head against hers.

"Shhh," Merlin soothed as he stroked the side of her neck.

Arthur shared a bemused look with Gwaine and Percival and was pleased to see that he was not the only one completely thrown by this newest development. He wondered if he would ever in this lifetime stop being surprised by Merlin, because it seemed the revelations about his friend were endless.

"What's wrong with it?" Arthur asked. "Why does it look so unwell?"

"I'm not really sure," Merlin answered softly, his gaze still on the young dragon. "She was a perfectly healthy hatchling, but something happened to her in the years since I last saw her. I wish I had protected her better. I should not have let her roam free so young."

"You knew her as a hatchling?"

Merlin nodded. "I was the one who hatched her."

"_You_ hatched her?"

"Yes."

Arthur laughed. "Merlin, I think you may be confused about how eggs and hatching work. Take hens, for instance. The mother hen has to sit on her eggs to hatch them. Now are you telling me that you sat on a dragon egg and hatched it like the girl that you are?"

Merlin narrowed his eyes at the king. "Actually, I hatched her _with magic_ practically right under your nose after I rescued you lot from Julius Borden."

Arthur pursed his lips. "I suppose that I shouldn't be surprised."

Merlin slowly stood again, and Arthur was not ignorant to how he rounded his posture to protect his midsection. Neither was the dragon, apparently, as it moaned curiously and nudged his side.

"It's alright, Aithusa," Merlin reassured her and patted her snout.

"We really need to be going," Gwaine reminded the group. "Odin is still on his way."

"Gwaine's right," Arthur agreed.

"We shouldn't run," Merlin said. "Rodor and Mithian are depending on us, especially now that Morgana is dealt with. We can make a stand against Odin right here."

"In case you haven't noticed, there are only four of us and a baby dragon, and you and Percival are not in top form. Odin has an army on its way here. I doubt he plans to give Morgana much longer before following after her, and there is no way we can take them on."

"Do you trust me, Arthur?" Merlin asked.

"Merlin—"

"Do you trust me?" he asked again.

Arthur sighed. "You know that I do." Regretfully so, he thought to himself.

Merlin grinned. "Good. I still have another trick up my sleeve." He looked up toward the sky and called in the same deep roar as earlier. "_O drakon, e mala soi ftengometh tesd'hup anankes!_"

* * *

**We finally have an answer about Gwaine's sword. I plan to add the scene of Kilgharrah burnishing it to "Protecting the Prat" after I have finished this story (we all know Kilgharrah gave Merlin a hard time, so I couldn't resist writing part of that scene already). Galatine is actually a bit of lesser-known Arthurian legend and was given to Gwaine by the Lady of the Lake. **

**Next chapter: Kilgharrah meets Arthur and Odin arrives for battle.**


	17. In which Arthur meets the Great Dragon

**So I feel horribly about leaving this for so long without proper warning. I had an unexpected opportunity to leave early on my vacation and spent a month abroad. A wonderful time was had, but I wish I had warned everyone reading this before I went MIA earlier than expected.**

**I am back and still plan to post the final few chapters of this story this month. We are nearly at an end of "Fighting Fate," but I have news for anyone looking for more. I plan to turn this into a trilogy of multi-chapter stories with individual one-shots telling some stories all the way. I want to continue through Arthur uniting Albion and the end of his reign. So that will be happening once we get through this.**

**Thank you again to all my reviewers and readers. I truly appreciate your support, suggestions or just general interest in this story. **

**Irene, happy belated birthday (very belated as I am posting my chapter a month after your review) and thank you for your review! You will be happy to know that your suggestion has actually inspired an idea, though it may be rather far off in the future of this fanfic-verse. **

* * *

When Merlin shouted his incantation to the sky, Arthur and the knights waited anxiously for some great show of magic. Arthur wasn't sure what exactly he had been expected—perhaps a sudden storm or an eclipse or an army of the dead or _something_ spectacular—but nothing happened. After a few long moments, the men began to shuffle.

"Hm," Gwaine said. "So..."

"Just give it a moment," Merlin interrupted. He seemed to be looking out beyond where the other men could see and Arthur wondered if Merlin _could_ see what was beyond.

With a sigh, Arthur, too, looked back toward the sky and waited a moment longer.

"Nothing is happening, mate," Gwaine said.

Merlin rolled his eyes but gave the knight a goodnatured grin. "It will."

"Just what was that spell supposed to do?" Arthur asked impatiently.

"It's not a spell, really." Merlin looked at the ground and realized he was standing beside the effigy Morgana had used against him earlier. With a frown, he stomped on it a few times and ground his boot into it for good measure.

"Then what is it?"

"A message. I'm calling on an old friend." He looked apprehensive as he pursed his lips in thought and glanced at the king. "Do try to be open-minded when you meet him. He's been rather helpful to me _and_ to you on many occasions. In fact, you probably would not be standing here today if not for his aid and guidance. He wants peace in Albion as badly as the rest of us. So just... don't try to kill him, alright?"

"Who is he?" Arthur asked. Why did Merlin expect him to reject someone who, if Merlin was correct, had been a faithful ally?

Merlin looked back to the sky. "You're about to find out."

Suddenly, the wind did pick up with more force than it had upon Aithusa's arrival and Arthur followed the warlock's gaze. He lost his breath as he realized that descending from the sky was a large, familiar dragon. A dragon who was supposed to be dead but was recently revealed to be very _not_ dead. It's massive wings caused the wind to whip at Arthur face and even his chainmail was moved by its force.

Arthur thought as the dragon landed that he should feel angry or fearful of the beast that had attacked his city and killed many of his subjects. Or perhaps he should have been awed at the proximity of the dragon and Merlin's confidence in the presence of such a powerful creature.

But no—the king's first feeling upon meeting the Great Dragon was complete and utter shock, because the moment its enormous, scaled feet touched the ground before them, the damned thing _spoke_.

"Young warlock," its rich voice called. "When you left my company I had feared that I would not see you again in this world."

"I had feared the same," Merlin said, "but here I am."

"I was relieved to hear your call, but I certainly did not expect you to be joined by others."

"It talks," Arthur interrupted lamely. "It just spoke _words_."

The dragon and his dragonlord both looked at him with a bit of annoyance and Arthur began to wish he had kept his mouth shut. However, only a moment passed before the air was filled with the dragon's booming laughter. "How else does one speak if not with words?" it asked.

"You'll have to excuse him," Merlin said. "The king is still learning how to properly use his words himself."

Arthur blushed as the dragon laughed again—and oh, was Arthur going to get Merlin back for this. "The other one doesn't talk!" he argued. "I just assumed you communicated through... Oh, for heaven's sake! How was I supposed to know that dragons could speak?"

The dragon seemed quite amused at his frustration and Arthur actively avoided looking at Merlin for fear of the smug expression that would surely be on his face.

"King Arthur," the dragon said. "I thought it might never come to pass that we two should meet."

Arthur swallowed the lump in his throat. "Yes, well, until recently, I believed that you were quite dead."

The dragon chuckled and lowered his head to the king's eye level. With great effort, Arthur resisted the urge to back away. "It appears you are better informed now," Kilgharrah said. He glanced at the others in the clearing. "As are your knights. Sirs Gwaine and Percival, I presume?"

"Yes," Arthur answered for them, "we are aware of your friendship with Merlin, as well as his... abilities."

"And you accept this, Arthur Pendragon?" the dragon asked.

"I do. Merlin has proven himself to me for years. His magic changes nothing."

Kilgharrah eyed him with more than a mild wonderment and shook his head in disbelief. "Then this is a truly notable occasion. Merlin has waited many years for your acceptance."

"He need not have waited." The king hardened his gaze at the creature before him. "Merlin tells me that you are an ally, and because he says it, I choose to trust his judgment. But know this, dragon—I have not forgotten our last encounter. Many of my people died when you attacked my kingdom."

"For that wrong, I apologize," the beast said regretfully. "I allowed rage to overpower my better judgment and conscience, and I admit that without our mutual friend in Merlin, I may have been unable to stop myself. I truly regret the lives that were lost."

"They were taken, not lost," Arthur replied bitterly. "And not just my knights. Peasants suffered. Women and children. _Innocents_."

"You are correct," Kilgharrah said softly. "But let us not forget the innocents—both my kind and yours—that died at the hands of your father. It does not justify my misguided actions, but I acted of grief and vengeance."

"As did he." Arthur looked sideways at his raven-haired friend, who was watching the exchange anxiously. He sighed and met the dragon's gaze again. "Yet, now is the time to move beyond the mistakes of the past if we ever hope to unite this land. If Merlin calls you an ally in this cause, then I shall honored to share your friendship."

The dragon's mouth curled into a small smile as he stood to his full height. "You are every bit the wise and worthy king Merlin always believed you would become," Kilgharrah said with a bow of his head.

Looking around again, the dragon's eyes seemed to find Morgana for the first time. "The witch is dead?"

Aithusa whimpered, and Merlin reached our to pat her snout sympathetically. "Yes," he said, "but the threat to Camelot and peace is not yet extinguished."

Kilgharrah studied Merlin with concern and an obvious fondness. "It appears that much has happened since last we met, young warlock."

Merlin's face was impassive as he nodded to the great beast. "Much indeed. Kilgharrah, we require your help."

"I will do anything within my power to aid you and your king."

"Thank you," Merlin said gratefully. "First, we could use some healing magic."

Kilgharrah was silent as he tilted his head up and stared down his long snout at his dragonlord. "There are some things that even my magic cannot heal."

Merlin smirked, but Arthur noted that it was more reserved—sadder, even—than his usual cheeky expression. "I imagine that broken bones are mended easily enough," he said while gesturing to Percival.

Kilgharrah stared at Merlin only a moment longer before turning toward the injured knight. "Sir Percival, would you permit me to use my magic to heal your leg?"

The large knight nodded and appeared to be only mildly nervous as the dragon blew—and for Heaven's sake, the damn thing's breath _glittered_—on the injured leg. When Kilgharrah was finished, Percival tested his weight on the foot and grinned in amazement. "It feels good as new."

"That's a handy trick," Gwaine said as he admired the dragon's work.

"I've certainly used it a time or two," Merlin said.

Kilgharrah turned back to him. "I will heal the wounds to your head and shoulder."

He nodded and waited as the dragon repeated the process on him. He smiled his thanks after he examined the scar where his knife wound had been.

Even as Merlin tested the improved range of motion in his shoulder, Arthur couldn't help feeling that something still was not quite right with his friend. There was still a slight tremor in his hand while he prodded his shoulder and his color had not returned completely. Of course, Gwaine might have been right about the blood loss affecting Merlin after the wounds were healed, but the king wasn't sure that was the problem.

"Now," the dragon said, "with what do you require my assistance?"

"Odin's army marches on Camelot," Merlin explained. "They have captured the royal family of Nemeth and plan to take Arthur's kingdom next. We sent two knights back to retrieve Camelot's forces, but they will not make it before Odin crosses our borders."

"You wish me to help you fight an army?" Kilgharrah asked dryly.

"Not fight, I hope. I think your presence alone could intimidate them into a retreat. No army has seen a dragon in decades, except for your attack on Camelot, and they cannot hope to fight one without a dragonlord on their side. And if you don't scare them, a sampling of my abilities will probably do the trick. We may not need to fight at all."

"The hell we won't fight," Arthur said. "They have attacked our allies and plan to take our home."

Merlin set a hand on his king's shoulder and spoke in a placating tone. "Arthur, it is your destiny to unite this land. If we can save Nemeth without fighting Odin's men, don't you think it is worth a shot? Morgana is already gone, leaving Camelot closer to peace. Don't put us another step back."

Arthur clenched his jaw and glared at the warlock. "That man is responsible for my father's death."

"And so you will kill him in return?" Merlin asked. "What happened to moving beyond past mistakes?"

"I would say that Odin is in the thick of a very _current_ mistake, Merlin."

"But if you can solve this without bloodshed, why continue the cycle? What good will it achieve? How many times have you talked about uniting this land? Will killing Odin bring that dream any closer?"

"I suggest you listen to our friend, young king," Kilgharrah said.

Arthur sighed and ran a hand down his face. "You're right," he told Merlin. "I know you're right."

Merlin gave him a relieved smile. "I've always been right, Arthur. You've just been too much of a prat to notice."

The king rolled his eyes. "You're still an idiot."

"If this plan doesn't work, you, Gwaine and Percival should run back to Camelot. Please take Aithusa with you." The young dragon huffed and whined, but Merlin gave her a stern look. "Aithusa, don't make me command you. I need you to go with Arthur, just in case something goes wrong. The survival of dragons depends on you." He looked back at the king. "Kilgharrah and I can handle Odin's forces, and I don't want any of you getting caught in the crossfire."

Arthur shook his head in disbelief. Despite now knowing of Merlin's magic, it was difficult to conceive of Merlin taking on an army and succeeding. He didn't doubt that one dragon and a powerful warlock could do it, but for years he had seen Merlin as someone to protect. Now to find out that he had never truly needed Arthur's protection... It might take years again to reconcile that. "I am not leaving you to fight an army."

"I can handle it," Merlin insisted.

"It's my fight." Arthur looked to his knights. "You will both escape and go to Camelot if this does become a battle."

"Not happening," Gwaine said. "We fight and live together."

"And die together?" Arthur asked in exasperation.

Gwaine hardened his gaze. "If need be."

"We stay to fight," Percival agreed.

"Fine," Merlin said, "but stay behind me if things go the wrong way. You really don't want to be in the path of my spells or dragon's fire. And Aithusa, you will still leave at the first sign of an impending battle."

Gwaine grinned. "I hope there is a fight so that we get to see those powers of yours." He looked up at the Great Dragon. "Wouldn't mind seeing a dragon attack either, since I was late for that one last time around."

"You may not have to wait long, Sir Gwaine," Kilgharrah said. His gold eyes peered into the trees before them. "I hear their army marching toward us."

Arthur and the knights drew their swords. Gwaine offered his spare sword to Merlin, but the warlock shook his head. "Trust me. I really don't need it."

Gwaine grinned. "Alright then."

Merlin glanced around at their surroundings before settling his eyes on Arthur. "They're close. I'll put up wards to prevent them flanking us."

Arthur agreed. If Merlin could manage that, then Odin's men would be forced to funnel in through the trees directly ahead. Not many would fit into the clearing, stacking the odd's further in Arthur's favor.

Merlin looked to their left and his eyes lit gold when he spoke the incantation. "_Scildan þæt holt._" He repeated the same to the right and gave Arthur a nod.

Kilgharrah stood taller and spread his wings out in an intimidating manner. "They have arrived."

No sooner had he announced their arrival than a group of Odin's knights came charging through the trees with swords raised. Arthur and his knights readied to defend themselves, but Merlin's spell was faster.

"_Ligfyr!_"

A wall of fire rose up between the enemies. Odin's men halted in their attack and stepped back from the flames. "Sorcery!" one cried.

Arthur heard the familiar snap of a crossbow being fired and caught sight of the bolt heading in Merlin's direction. Before Arthur could cry a warning, Merlin had already raised his hand and thrown up a magical shield.

"_Scildan_."

The arrow dropped before it reached Merlin and Arthur breathed a sigh of relief. Odin's men became restless, obviously unsure of what to do.

"Stand down, Merlin," Arthur commanded.

With a wave of the warlock's hand, the fire disappeared, leaving only a veil of smoke between the groups of men.

When he was sure the knights present would advance no further, Arthur tightened his grip on Excalibur. "Odin!" he called. "Are you going to hide amongst the trees while your men fight?"

A moment later, Odin stepped into the clearing, flanked by four more knights. He stopped about fifteen meters in front of Arthur with his own sword drawn before him. "Arthur Pendragon. At last. I have waited many years for this moment."

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**Next chapter: The confrontation between Arthur and Odin.**


	18. In which Merlin is not alright

**Thank you again to everyone who has reviewed or added this story to a favorite or alert list. I'm sorry that I didn't get to respond to each review individually, but I haven't been at my computer much recently and wanted to get this chapter up as soon as I could. I appreciate everyone's support, suggestions and general interest so much. And I'm also sorry for being so terrible at updating regularly. I wish I could commit to updating on the same day every week, but, alas, summer keeps me away from my writing more often than school normally does!**

**So it appears as if the next chapter will be the last before the epilogue, which is very odd as I can hardly remember a time when I wasn't planning or updating this story. Fortunately, I can keep planning and writing the sequels. I will let you know their titles and a general synopsis for the first sequel when I post the epilogue to this story! I'm rather excited about that one :)**

**I'm not completely satisfied with this chapter, but I've been staring at it for too long without any brilliant ideas for improving it. I'm far more excited about the next one, which is nearly finished.**

**Please review :)**

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Odin studied the group before him with keen eyes and a tense posture. "Interesting company being kept by the King of Camelot."

"What _I_ find interesting is that you have made a bid for war by abducting a royal family and marching an army into the kingdom of another," Arthur said.

"I've been far more eager about what awaited me in your kingdom."

Arthur lifted his chin and glared at the man. "And what is that?"

"Your defeat," Odin spat. "You killed my son. You took what was most precious to me and now you will pay the forfeit."

"My father's life... That wasn't enough?"

"No."

Arthur shook his head. "So be it. But let's leave our men out of this fight."

"Not keen on doing battle with such low numbers?" Odin asked, though he watched Kilgharrah warily and tightened the grip on his sword.

"We may have less men," Arthur said, "but don't doubt that the dragons could easily handle your army. And if they can't, the warlock will."

At that, Merlin muttered something under his breath, causing the ground to shake momentarily. Arthur gave him a sharp look of disapproval, to which Merlin shrugged a shoulder before glaring back at the enemy forces.

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes at his servant's show, Arthur continued. "We defeated the High Priestess easily." He gestured to Morgana's still form behind him. "If your army enters battle with my friends, you will suffer many casualties."

"Would you risk harm to your captive allies?" Odin sneered.

"You speak of King Rodor and Princess Mithian, I presume? Where are you keeping them?"

Without looking away from Arthur, Odin called to a man over his shoulder. "Callum, have them bring the prisoners forward."

The knight bowed his head before turning back into the trees. Arthur found himself in a staring match with the other king as they waited for his return. Looking into the face of such malice and bitterness, he was tempted to attack the man responsible for his father's death despite agreeing with Merlin's earlier advice. He chose, instead, to concentrate on slow controlled breaths even as the adrenaline rushed through his veins, urging him to action.

Callum came back into the clearing with one arm around Mithian and the other holding a knife to her neck. The princess was paler than Arthur remembered and dark shadows fell under her eyes. She met Arthur's gaze with fear and desperation.

"My lord!" she cried. "What are you—"

She stopped as she caught sight of the dragon in the clearing and backed into her captor.

Behind them, another of Odin's knights all but dragged King Rodor into the clearing before throwing him to the ground and pointing a sword under his chin.

"My friends," Arthur said. "Are you harmed?"

Mithian did not look away from the dragon, but her struggle to escape had stopped. "I am not, my lord," she said softly, "but my father is weakened."

"Release them," Arthur commanded Odin.

Odin scoffed. "Perhaps after we have settled our matter." He raised his hand as if to gesture his army forward, but Arthur stopped him.

"I wish for no more bloodshed, so I offer an alternative." He removed the gauntlet from his left hand and tossed it to the ground at Odin's feet.

"Arthur!" Merlin hissed from behind him, but he paid no heed.

"This fight is between us, Odin," he continued. "Let us battle each other not as kings commanding armies, but as men."

Odin smirked as he reached down to accept the gauntlet. "And now you will pay the forfeit."

With a solemn nod, Arthur stepped toward the king. The first blow came from Odin's sword, swung above Arthur's head and easily blocked by Excalibur to the ringing sound of metal on metal. Arthur pushed his sword back and swiped unsuccessfully at Odin's midsection. Their swords met again and again before Odin was pushed backward.

Rage burned in Odin's eyes as he regained his footing and again took the offensive. In his fury, he swung almost wildly at Arthur, and it took the younger man very little effort to deflect the attacks.

With a roar of frustration, Odin swung for his head, and Arthur ducked beneath the arc of the blade before knocking him to the ground with a kick to the back of the knee. Odin's next flimsy thrust was enough for Arthur to disarm him.

Arthur grunted and shoved his sword under Odin's chin, forcing the unarmed king into submission. He could finally have his revenge for his father's murder after all those years with a simple move of his wrist.

"Arthur!" Merlin cried. "Stop. Think about what you're doing."

Arthur stared wide-eyed at Odin, breathing heavily with barely-contained fury. After a moment, he moved the sword, just fractionally, away from the king's neck. "This is no answer."

"Finish it," Odin said bitterly. "Finish it and be done."

"And what then?" Arthur asked. "Your people will seek their revenge. A war without an end."

"There is no other way."

"There _is_ another way. In return for your life, you must restore Rodor to the throne of Nemeth."

Odin scoffed. "Even if I agreed, it solves nothing. What about us, Pendragon?"

"A truce," Arthur said. "Binding our kingdoms to peace."

"Never."

"Is this what you want?" Arthur snapped and leaned in closer. "To die here, now, knowing you condemn this land to war. Odin, you cannot let it end like this. The blood will never wash off."

"You killed my son," Odin said, and Arthur could hear the grief—like his for his father—as if Odin's son had died only yesterday.

"You killed my father! We have both lost much at the other's hand. Let us lose no more. I am offering you the chance to end this. Take it!" Arthur threw his sword to the ground and held his hand out to his enemy. "Take it."

Odin eyed the hand skeptically for a moment before looking at Arthur. "So be it." With a curt nod, he grasped Arthur's forearm and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. "A truce it is."

After a moment, Odin turned to his men. "Release them."

As soon as she was free, Mithian ran to Rodor's side and held his face between her hands. "Father," she sobbed as she examined him for injuries.

Arthur nodded to Merlin, who cautiously approached the royals and crouched beside them. He spoke to them in hushed tones as Arthur continued his discussion with Odin.

"What of Nemeth's knights?" he asked.

"Many of them were killed in the siege," Odin said unapologetically. "Those who survived are prisoner in the castle dungeons."

"Pardon my interruption, your majesties," Kilgharrah said suddenly. Arthur nearly laughed at the surprised expressions on Odin's men, but their king's face remained stony and impassive. "But many men approach from Camelot as we speak."

Arthur sent a questioning look to Merlin as he led Mithian and Rodor toward them. Merlin frowned and looked into the woods. His eyes flashed gold for a few seconds before he refocused on Arthur. "It's Leon, Sire. He has about seventy of Camelot's knights with him."

"How is that even possible?" Arthur asked. "Leon and Elyan only headed back last night."

Merlin shrugged. "I'm not sure, but Elyan doesn't appear to be with them."

Confused, Arthur beckoned Percival forward. "Intercept them," he directed the large knight. "Tell them to stand down and wait for orders. Bring Leon here and explain the situation to him along the way."

"My lord." Percival bowed his head and ran quickly from the clearing.

"It seems that a truce is rather prudent on my part," Odin said. "The odds have truly stacked in your favor, as they have many times in the past. Why is that, King Arthur?"

Arthur smirked. "Until recently, I had no idea, but it turns out that I have had a good luck charm at my side at all times. A magical one." He glanced at Merlin proudly, but the warlock didn't seem to notice. Rather, Merlin appeared to be staring at a spot on the ground in deep concentration.

"You don't find that hypocritical?" Odin asked.

Arthur mentally shook himself from his contemplation and hardened his face. "Times are changing. A truce between us is evidence enough."

"Indeed."

The sound of hooves behind him made Arthur turn to the trees in time to see Leon and Percival riding in on Leon's horse. Leon called to Arthur and quickly dismounted.

"Will you please excuse me?" Arthur asked Odin.

Odin nodded and broke away to converse with the man who appeared to be his own First Knight.

Arthur met Leon halfway to the horse and gripped his shoulder. "Merlin said you brought a small army with you. How have you returned so quickly?"

"That was the Queen's doing, Sire. She sent men out after discovering that Merlin had followed us out of Camelot. We met the men on our way to Camelot and Elyan rode continued back to the citadel to inform Her Highness of recent developments. Sir Gareth told us that she claimed to have good reason to believe that you might do battle with Morgana."

"Before I left, I told her of the visions," Arthur said with a smile. "She probably knew Merlin had followed us and realized that his presence could lead to the visions coming true. Clever woman."

"The Queen is truly a wise leader," Leon agreed. "Percival tells me that the Lady Morgana is dead and that you have come to a truce with King Odin. I see that everything he says is true. Including that there are dragons in the clearing."

"No need to worry," Arthur said with only a bit of trepidation. "They're Merlin's dragons." He was sure he heard the Great Dragon huff indignantly, but he continued without acknowledging it. If the damn thing didn't like it, he didn't have to eavesdrop on Arthur's conversation. "They've proven quite helpful in the absence of an army. But I am glad that you are here now. Come. Let's discuss this truce with Odin."

Arthur turned to introduce his First Knight to Odin. A great many things happened at once, then. Aithusa became rather agitated and moaned pitifully, causing Odin's men to assume defensive stances. Leon stood in front of his king, prepared to defend him should they or the young dragon choose to attack. Mithian cried out Merlin's name just as a rough, wet cough tore from the warlock's chest.

Arthur whipped his head in the direction of the sound in time to see Merlin break into a fit of coughs, one hand over his mouth while the other pressed against his midsection—right where Arthur had stabbed him earlier.

No one made a move as the coughs subsided and Merlin frowned at the hand that had been covering his mouth. Fearful blue eyes met Arthur's own before rolling upwards and Merlin was suddenly falling to his knees. Fortunately, Mithian was beside him and slowed his descent until Arthur could skid to his own knees in front of him.

"Merlin!" Arthur cried. He grabbed the sides of Merlin's head and held it up.

Merlin's eyes were small slits of blue as his eyelashes fluttered against pale cheekbones. He said Arthur's name in a dazed murmur and frowned. The action drew Arthur's attention to the warlock's mouth, and his heart nearly stopped. Blood was spattered on the corner.

"No." Arthur grabbed the hand that had covered Merlin's mouth during the coughing fit and was horrified to find blood smeared in the palm. "Oh god."

Merlin grabbed at the front of Arthur's chainmail to hold himself upright. "It's alright..."

Despite the feeble reassurances, Arthur pulled at the hole in his tunic to confirm that no new blood was spilled.

"I don't understand," Arthur said as Gwaine shoved his hand away to get a better look. "The wound is still gone. Merlin, what's happening?"

His servant grimaced. "It's coming back," he muttered.

Arthur shook his head. "How is that possible?"

"What's happening to him?" Mithian asked. Her hand, still on Merlin's arm from when she had controlled his fall, was now squeezing gently in what Arthur presumed was meant to be a comforting gesture.

"He was stabbed earlier, but he is supposed to be healed," he explained.

If she thought there was anything at all strange about such a statement, she did not ask any questions to clarify. Merlin patted her hand clumsily and smiled. "It's alright, Princess."

"I don't understand how a healed wound is returning," Arthur said.

"That is because the wound was never entirely healed," Kilgharrah said mournfully, "nor can it be by any magic possessed by man. Even magic as old as dragons cannot heal a deadly wound made by the blade that pierced him today."

"You knew he was so badly injured and neither of you said anything?" Arthur growled.

"Arthur, calm down," Merlin pleaded.

"I will not calm down, you idiot. Has the wound been bothering you this entire time? I _knew_ something was not right with you. You should have told me that you were not healed."

"Odin spared our physician in the siege," Mithian said. "Perhaps if we could take him back to the castle—"

"That will not help," Kilgharrah said. "A physician could not heal him and his wound will continue to worsen until it reopens entirely."

Merlin broke into another coughing fit and would have collapsed if not for his shoulder falling against Mitihan.

"Can nothing be done to save him?" Gwaine asked.

"Such a wound has never been healed before," the dragon lamented. "But if there is a magic that could heal Merlin, it would be possessed by the Sidhe."

"The Sidhe?" Gwaine repeated. "Like the ugly fairy that Arthur nearly married?"

The dragon fixed him with a peculiar look. "The Sidhe are a race of immortals that reside in the Lake of Avalon. Their magic is older even than dragons and the source of their power is an ancient isle in the lake."

"Then we must take Merlin to Avalon," Arthur said.

"It still may not work," Merlin said softly as he righted himself. "We are far from Avalon."

"It certainly won't work if we don't try." Arthur stood and stared fiercely at the dragon. "Will you fly us there?"

"There is little I would not do for the young warlock," Kilgharrah said. "But we must go now if there is any hope of reaching the Lake of Avalon in time."

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**So we have a bit of a role reversal here, but don't worry. I'm not going to be that cruel!**

**Next chapter: So much bromance. And Freya. Yes, Arthur will finally find out the whole story of Freya.**


	19. In which nobody said it was easy

**So this is the last chapter before the epilogue. I cannot believe that I have actually gotten here. **

**Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. Your comments were so lovely and really inspired a lot of momentum in completing this chapter. It came out much longer than I was expecting and I nearly split it in two, but I had promised you Freya in this chapter and did not want to make you wait for yet another update. I have been dying to get the Freya conversation up here. So not only do you get a faster update but also a longer chapter!**

**Amorous Erised - I chose the chapter title from "The Scientist," which was one of my favorite _Glee_ performances with Cory Monteith. R.I.P. Cory**

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Riding a dragon was absolutely nothing like riding a horse.

First, any notion or semblance of control on the part of the rider was gone. Arthur was completely at the mercy of the Great Dragon, and he wasn't too sure how he felt about _that_.

Second, he had never ridden anything so fast in his life. It made his stomach clench in an attempt, he assumed, to avoid rising up in his throat. The air whipped at his face and the cold bit at his ears. He could only imagine how Merlin's oversized ear must feel, what with them being naturally much more exposed to the elements than his own.

Third, Arthur had suddenly discovered a new hatred for heights and had to avoid looking beneath them to see the mountains, trees, boulders and rivers that would be their certain death should they fall. It was altogether not Arthur's favorite experience.

He and Merlin had left their friends (with the exception of Aithusa, whom Merlin had directed to wait near Camelot for Kilgharrah) in Gedreth to deal with Odin and the safe return of Rodor and Mithian to Nemeth. He hadn't felt quite right about leaving the formation of a new and long-desired peace treaty with Odin to his knights, but he was not allowing Merlin to make this journey with anyone but himself. Odin had been surprisingly agreeable to the situation.

"King Odin, I apologize, but I must take my friend to safety," Arthur had said to him. "My First Knight, Sir Leon, will stay behind to discuss negotiations with you and King Rodor. Please accept his authority and wisdom as my own. I trust you will keep your word in my absence."

"A king is nothing without his word," Odin had replied, "or his allies. We will meet again."

He had held out his arm and Arthur grasped it with pride. "Thank you, King Odin. Today, we offer the people of this land hope for the future."

Now, Arthur held on tightly to Merlin, who sat before him and leaned back against the king's chest. At first, they had been silent for much of the ride, save for the coughs the wracked Merlin's frame in greater frequency as they went on.

Not surprisingly, it was Merlin who broke the silence with stories of magical adventures, telling Arthur how he first met Gaius and Kilgarrah, how he discovered that he was Emrys — and, oh, did Arthur have some things to discuss with Mordred — and about hatching Aithusa.

Through the few stories Merlin told him, Arthur again realized how much he still had to learn of his friend. He only hoped he would have the opportunity to hear all of Merlin's tales one day.

"Do you remember the day we met?" Merlin asked.

"I tried to take your head off with a mace," Arthur said.

Merlin gasped out a painful sounding laugh and smiled weakly. "And I stopped you, using magic."

"You cheated!" Arthur protested.

"You were going to kill me."

"I'm glad I didn't." Arthur squeezed Merlin's arm. "You were exactly the friend I needed back then. I was a haughty and foolish prince and no one else was stupid or brave enough to stand up to me."

"So you agree that you were a supercilious prat?" Merlin teased. "You have come far since that day."

"I suppose you really changed me, didn't you? Without you, Merlin, I would not be the king I am. Without you, I will not be the king I must become. I still need you by my side, old friend."

"What you need is to have more faith in yourself, Arthur," Merlin said. "You know you changed me a great deal as well. We are both wiser and stronger. I can be at peace knowing my work is done."

"Well, I'm not ready for that just yet," Arthur said stubbornly. "You must live. I believe that you still have a destiny to fulfill, Merlin. This story does not end here. It cannot."

"You still think you can order me around and tell me what I must do?" Merlin joked weakly. "You must know by now that I never do as I'm told."

"Don't you want to be around when I bring magic back to Camelot? You'd really miss all that just to be contrary?"

Merlin let out a laugh that reached his eyes, crinkling them in the corners in a look of impish amusement.

"You will finally live in a Camelot where you are safe to be who you are just as you should have all along," Arthur went on. "I am going to repeal the laws against magic and make amends with those who practice it peacefully. You can't give up when I'm doing this all for you."

"Hopefully not _all_ for me," Merlin said.

Arthur nodded wearily. "For the many people who have been wronged by the law. In some ways, for Morgana even. For the person she once was and for the hope that no others are pushed into such darkness by fear. We must all honor and nurture those we love rather than reject them for their natural abilities."

"That's a brilliant speech," Merlin said. Though his tone was joking, Arthur could also sense the sincerity in his comment. "You should use that when you announce it to Camelot."

"Perhaps I will."

They were quiet for a while before Merlin spoke in a voice of solemn realization. "'The love that binds us is more important than the power we wield,'" he said.

"What's that?"

"Something Mordred said to me once," Merlin explained. "When you knighted him, I asked him why he would hide his magic to serve you."

"And that was his response?" Arthur said.

"Yes. He said that Morgana had forgotten it. Perhaps..."

"Perhaps what?"

Merlin looked up at him hopefully. "_This_ is how you keep the promise you made me."

Arthur frowned. "About Mordred?"

"He hangs onto the hope that one day you will accept his true nature," Merlin said. "Perhaps I was wrong before and he was right all along. The answer is not to turn him away for a crime he might commit. Perhaps... I'm such a fool. Arthur, you and Mordred are _both_ right."

"I don't understand."

"The love that binds us, Arthur," Merlin said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I thought that you had to kill Mordred before he killed you. I thought that was what I made you promise. But now I'm sure that accepting magic is all you must do. He truly does respect you and believe in all the good that you stand for. He needs to know that you believe in him, too."

"I do," Arthur said earnestly.

"You're a good man, Arthur." Merlin grew quiet, except for the occasional rasping breath. He shifted, pushing himself straighter with a hiss of pain. "There is something I must tell you still."

"I'm sure there is much you can tell me. Certainly, it can wait until you are well."

"No. It is too important. It... It's about your father. And the old sorcerer who tried to heal him."

Arthur furrowed his brow and looked ahead of them. Mention of the sorcerer brought a vivid image to his mind — a pair of deep blue eyes, sharp and earnest — and then Morgana's voice range through his head.

_"The old man. I knew I recognized him! Those eyes were so familiar. It must have been Merlin using the very enchantment I'd planned to cast on my way to Camelot."_

Arthur's stomach turned as he realized that he knew what Merlin needed to share, but he wasn't sure he was ready to hear it. Memories began to overwhelm him as he thought back to the day when he'd lost his father. The things that sorcerer — the lying, murdering sorcerer — had said to him in what had seemed such a heartfelt manner.

_"I know you have suffered because of magic, as many have. But not all magic and not all sorcerers are the same. I wish only to show you that magic can be used for good. I hope that one day you'll see me in a different light."_

Arthur had almost believed the old me, but then his father had died.

_"This was not supposed to happen."_

The old man had insisted that it was not intended. What reason would the sorcerer have had to lie, though? If killing Uther had been his goal, why would he have insisted that he had not meant to? Should he have delighted in Uther's death?

But there were those eyes. So sad and so _familiar_.

Later, Merlin had defended the sorcerer, but Arthur had thought he was merely trying to ease his king's own guilt for bringing the sorcerer to Camelot.

_"I'm sure that the old sorcerer meant no harm. Perhaps the spell went wrong. Uther was dying. Maybe nothing could have saved him."_

And Gaius, too, had defended the old man.

_"The sorcerer did not kill your father. Uther was dying. He tried everything in his power to save him. Contained within this great kingdom is a rich variety of people with a range of different beliefs. I'm not the only one seeking to protect you. There are many more who believe in the world you are trying to create. One day you will learn, Arthur. One day you will understand just how much they've done for you."_

It all made too much sense now that Arthur put the pieces in the right place and properly _saw_. It had been Merlin, always Merlin. Merlin who would follow him into the mouth of hell. Of course he had been the sorcerer. And Arthur believed, without a doubt, that the sorcerer's words had been true.

He recalled the image of his friend, sitting against a wall and waiting for Arthur emerge from mourning beside his father's body. He had seen in that moment that none were more loyal to him than Merlin.

_"I didn't want you to feel that you were alone."_

Even now that Merlin was a warlock and the old sorcerer Arthur had long sought, his loyalty could not be questioned.

Arthur squeezed Merlin's arm. "You do not need to say it, Merlin. I know who he was and... I am _thankful_ that you tried to save my father's life."

Merlin seemed about to say more, but another coughing fit took over and he had to cover his mouth. When he finally caught his breath again, he looked up at Arthur pitifully. "I'm sorry," he said.

"There is nothing to forgive," Arthur said. "You and Gaius both tried to tell me that the sorcerer did not kill my father. I believe you." He sighed and looked at the clear sky ahead of them. "Merlin, there is something that I do want to know about, though. "

"Anything."

"Who is Freya?" Arthur asked. "It seems like she was quite important to you but I don't believe I had ever heard her name before setting out on this adventure."

Merlin smiled sadly. "You wouldn't have. When you met her, no one called her by her name."

"I met her?"

"Nearly six years ago, now," Merlin explained. "She was a druid, captured and brought to Camelot for bounty."

"And you knew her?"

Merlin hissed as he shifted his position a bit. "Not until she came to Camelot. When I first saw her, she was just a terrified girl locked away in a cage. Even in rags she was the most beautiful girl I ever saw. Gaius told me to leave it be, but I couldn't. She was innocent, and something about her called to me, like we were kindred spirits. It could have just as easily been me in that cage."

"My father didn't execute her, did he?" Arthur asked fearfully.

Merlin shook his head. "I helped her escape into the tunnels beneath the city before Halig could sell her to Uther. For a few days, she hid down there while I brought her food and worked on a plan to safely get her out of the city." He took a deep breath and his eyes stared into the distance, seemingly a million miles away from where he was with Arthur. "At first, she didn't understand kindness from a stranger, but I had to help her. She was an outsider — alone and scared just like me. I knew the moment I saw her that I could be myself around her, and it excited me. It hardly took me a day to fall in love with her, I wanted nothing more than to keep her safe. We planned to escape and start a life together." He looked at Arthur solemnly. "It was the only time that I was truly prepared to abandon my destiny to have a future with her far away from Camelot."

"You loved her that much?"

"More than that, even. If I ever love another woman again, I doubt it could ever compare to what I had with Freya. It was such an innocent and pure love, and it happened in a time when I was still young and optimistic. I used to believe that no obstacle was insurmountable."

Arthur waited for him to continue, but Merlin's eyes had drifted off sadly to the endless sky before them. "So what happened?" he asked.

"I found an obstacle that I couldn't defeat. A sorceress had cursed Freya out of revenge. Freya had never intentionally wronged the woman, but that didn't matter. Freya tried to tell me so many times, but I was too lovesick and excited to really listen to her. I knew she was terrified of something. I just didn't realize it was herself."

"What kind of curse?"

"Each night, she would turn into a creature of magic and be forced to kill. She carried so much guilt, even though she did not want to harm anyone." Merlin paused and a grimace passed over his face. "But after I released her from Halig's cage, there was nothing from stopping the monster from attacking Camelot's residents."

Arthur's mouth felt dry as he listened to Merlin's story. The details suddenly became familiar, matching a memory of his own — a scared druid girl and a flying, black beast. "She was the bastet," he whispered.

Merlin's silence was the only confirmation he needed. The king felt like he might be sick. "Merlin, _I_ killed the bastet."

"You were protecting Camelot," Merlin said softly. "You didn't know."

Arthur shut his eyes and shook his head. "How many times have I wronged you or ignored your suffering because I 'didn't know?'"

"Arthur..." Merlin's voice was quiet and frightened.

Arthur opened his eyes to find Merlin pressing a hand to his stomach. Nervously, the king pulled Merlin's hand away to see that blood was spilling from the previously healed wound. He silently replaced the hand and applied his own pressure atop it.

"You will be... alright," Merlin said as blood dribbled down the from the corner of his mouth. "I... know you will."

Arthur wiped Merlin's chin. "Worry about yourself, you fool," he said halfheartedly. "It shouldn't be much longer." Merlin's eyes began to drift shut and Arthur shook him. "We are not far from Avalon. Stay with me."

Merlin smiled weakly. "My beautiful Freya... She died on the... shore of... the lake," he said. "In my arms."

Arthur's eyes filled with tears at the thought of the pain he had caused Merlin. If it had been Guinevere, Arthur did not think he was strong enough to go on and to forgive the way Merlin had. "I'm sorry."

"She's still there," Merlin said. "To aid me... and wait for me."

"She can't have you just yet," Arthur said.

Merlin's eyes shut completely, and no amount of shaking would persuade the warlock into complete alertness again.

"Kilgharrah!" Arthur shouted. He desperately held his hand against Merlin's stomach and felt his back to learn that the exit wound was beginning to reopen as well. "He doesn't have much time!"

The king's stomach clenched as they made a quick descent. He held onto Merlin tighter and watched ahead to find that they were heading toward an island in the center of the lake of Avalon. He nearly laughed with relief but quickly deflated when he watched Merlin's head fall listlessly to his chest. He tapped on his friend's cheek. "We made it, Merlin. Wake up!"

"Mm," was the only response.

Arthur nearly catapulted them both out of the dragon the moment its feet touched the ground. He slung Merlin's arm over his shoulder and began to guide him toward the lake.

"You must take him into the water," Kilgharrah said. "If the Sidhe will help him, that is where they will be."

They had barely wet their feet in the lake when Merlin became dead weight and dropped heavily into the water, bringing Arthur down with him.

"No!" Arthur cried as he tried to pull Merlin upright again. "Merlin, get up. Where are these stupid fairies or Sidhe or whatever the hell you call them?" He began to drag Merlin further into the water, despite the heaviness of his limp form. "Do you hear me, fairies? Where are you? You're supposed to help him! He isn't supposed to die!"

Arthur didn't know what he had expected, but it certainly wasn't for the water ahead of them to start bubbling. He swallowed nervously and watched as a figure — not blue and hideous as Merlin's description had left him imagining — rose from the water.

A moment later, a young woman with a familiar face and soft, beautiful features stood waist-deep in the lake water, the long sleeves of her purple dress flowing behind her as she walked towards them. She seemed weightless as she moved through the water to meet them.

Arthur had seen her before and she was most certainly not one of the Sidhe.

"Freya," Merlin whispered reverently.

Freya. Arthur feared she had come to take Merlin away with her and he held on tighter. But Merlin seemed to find some small renewed strength. He held his hand out to her and she took it gently between hers. She stood straight before Arthur and gazed deeply into his eyes. Her face held none of the bitterness or hatred it should for her killer.

"I am sorry that I killed you," Arthur said.

She smiled softly. "I forgave you long ago, King Arthur."

She then turned her attention completely to Merlin, who was still mostly dead weight in his king's arms. Even on the verge of passing out from his injury, Merlin managed to look at her with loving and expectant eyes.

"Merlin, I love you and would give the world to have you here with me for the rest of time," Freya said. "But not this day. Your story is not yet finished. You have done so much good in your lifetime, but there is still much to be done. Though Camelot has found peace at last, trust that Arthur needs you by his side always. The future that you will help him build is waiting, and I know that you will accomplish many great things together." She gently caressed Merlin's cheek and leaned down so that their lips were inches apart. "You must live."

She closed the gap between them and Arthur was blinded by the white light that burst from the Lake of Avalon and engulfed them all.

* * *

**In the epilogue: The new order of things in Camelot.**

**I will also be posting the summary for the sequel in the next chapter. I'm pretty excited about it.**

**Please review :)**


	20. Epilogue

**Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter. I was overwhelmed when I logged on and saw the response to the chapter. To come back and see that the story had surpassed 200 favorites and 300 reviews blew me away. I never expected such a response! And the kind words you all had to say... You really made my day.**

**Here is the final update. It feels so bittersweet to be at the end, but at least I have some sequels and side stories to work on! More on that in the Author's Note at the end.**

**On with the epilogue. I hope you enjoy it :)**

**Warning: Potentially fatal doses of bromance below. Proceed with caution.**

* * *

"Merlin, not so tight," Arthur growled as he slapped at his friend's hands. "Have you forgotten how to fasten a cape properly or are you trying to choke your king?"

"Sorry," Merlin apologized sheepishly as he loosened his grip and finished the knot with shaking hands. "Just a bit anxious, I suppose. Either that or you've gotten larger. Now that I come to think of it..."

Arthur glowered at him. "I _have not_ gotten larger!"

"Welllll..."

"_Merlin_."

Guinevere giggled as she came entered the chambers. "Will you two ever stop bickering?"

Merlin and Arthur looked at each other for a moment before they both said, "Not likely."

All three of them laughed. Merlin grinned at the queen. "You are looking lovely today, Your Majesty."

"Thank you, Merlin," she said. "You look rather handsome, yourself. It's nice to see you getting use out of that jacket again."

Merlin looked down at himself and blushed. He was wearing the red jacket that Arthur and Guinevere had gifted him to wear at their marriage ceremony and the queen's coronation. Guinevere had made it especially for him, and Arthur knew that it was one of Merlin's prized possessions.

Merlin had humbly objected to receiving such a fine gift. The fabric was likely more expensive than all of his other clothes combined.

"You're our best friend," she had told him as she'd pushed his arm through the jacket. Arthur remembered the way she had given him a sharp look before adding, "even if Arthur won't ever say it. You deserve to stand out, even just a little bit.

Merlin had donned the jacket again for the magic repeal ceremony that afternoon at Arthur's suggestion. Just as he had at the coronation, Merlin also wore his old blue neck scarf.

Arthur frowned and plucked at the material. "You really need to take that off."

"I do not," Merlin said stubbornly, stepping away from him.

"It is old and threadbare," Arthur said. "Not to forget completely unfashionable."

"But I don't want to take it off. I always wear my neckerchief."

"Not the first terrible choice you have ever made."

"It stays on," Merlin said.

"Leave him alone, Arthur," Guinevere chided with obvious amusement twinkling in her dark eyes. "You look wonderful, Merlin."

Merlin looked smugly at Arthur, who sighed. "You are supposed to be on my side," he told his wife.

"Always," she said with a quick kiss on his cheek. "I'm off to go see that the preparations have gone smoothly and check on Hunith. Last I saw her, Gwaine was showing her around the castle."

"Heaven help us," Arthur said.

"Don't let him flatter Mother too much," Merlin said.

Guinevere's laughter filled Arthur's ears until she shut the door behind her.

"I don't know why you left your poor mother alone with Gwaine," Arthur told him. "You condemned her to a day of mindless chatter and tavern stories."

Merlin shrugged. "She likes listening to Gwaine's stories."

"She's a braver person than I." Arthur looked in the mirror and rolled his eyes at the cape that rested askew over his shoulders. "Oh, for heaven's sake, it's crooked."

"Oh... erm... I'll just fix that." Merlin stepped forward to untie the garment and was immediately met with a struggle.

"Just leave it alone," Arthur hissed in irritation.

"No, no, I've got it," Merlin insisted. "I have done it a thousand times before, after all."

"_Mer_lin!"

A knock at the door interrupted their scuffle and Arthur took advantage of the sound to push Merlin's hands away from his cape in favor of fastening it himself.

"Enter," he called.

The door pushed open to reveal the young maid servant whose infatuation with Merlin had been the topic of discussion seemingly ages ago. Adalind entered quietly with her green eyes trained on the ground and two plates of food held in her hands.

"I've brought the food you requested, Your Majesty."

"Ah, yes," Arthur said casually. "Merlin, you will join me for lunch, won't you?"

Merlin frowned. "I could have gone down for your lunch. You didn't have to send for Addy to bring it here."

"Nonsense," Arthur insisted. "Adalind, is it? Would you mind setting the table for me and Merlin? Everything is just over there in that cabinet."

"Of course, Sire." Adalind bowed her head lower and placed the two dishes on the table before going to retrieve utensils. It was only as she reached for a goblet that Arthur noticed the slight tremor in her hand.

Merlin huffed and rolled his eyes at the king before approaching the kitchen maid. "Please don't, Addy. I can handle all that. I already know where it is, after all. Arthur's just being a great prat as usual and—"

A crash resounded through the chamber the moment his hand touched Adalind's elbow and she dropped the goblet on the ground. With a frightened squeak, she flattened herself against the piece of furniture and stared at Merlin with wide eyes.

Merlin's cheeks and ears tinged red and he backed away from her self-consciously.

"Oh-h, I'm so sorry M-Merlin," she stuttered nervously as she reached down to retrieve the goblet. "I'll just..."

"It's alright," Merlin said gently. "Just go on. I'll finish here."

Adalind glanced at Arthur unsurely and he held back a sigh as he nodded in confirmation. "Thank you for bringing our meal," he said.

Adalind bowed her head again. "Your Majesty." With one last anxious glance at Merlin, she darted from the room with the goblet still in her hand. Merlin sighed and collected utensils

"I see that situation hasn't improved much."

The warlock gave him such a reproachful look that Arthur might have felt a bit ashamed of himself. "Thanks very much for that. Don't you think it was a bit obvious of you requesting a kitchen maid serve your lunch?"

Arthur shrugged. "I was only trying to help."

Merlin set the utensils down on the table, but only set it for one. "She isn't the only person afraid of me now."

"I'm sorry, Merlin. They'll all come around eventually. As loathe as I am to admit this and cause you to grow a large head—"

Merlin snorted at that. "Yes, we must worry about _my_ oversized head."

Arthur pursed his lips but continued. "Everyone in Camelot likes you Merlin. They always have. They'll all come around eventually."

"It may take years to reverse the prejudices your father built."

"And that's exactly why I need you as my Court Sorcerer to show the people how magic can be used for good. With you representing the magical community, we can help the kingdom fight those prejudices. Set that for two, _Mer_lin. Or do you plan to eat with your hands?"

"Court Sorcerer?" Merlin repeated, ignoring his king's command.

"Well, you can't very well keep this job, can you?"

"Hold on now. You're sacking me?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "I'm _promoting_ you, you idiot, though I may have to second guess making a dimwitted fool such a pivotal member of my court."

Merlin was gaping rather impressively at him. "Pivotal member of— Arthur, I can't be Court Sorcerer!"

"And why not?"

"Have you met the stuck-up nobles in your court?" Merlin asked with his eyebrows high. "They never got over you knighting peasants and they are still reeling from your decision to repeal the ban on magic _and_ the discovery that your servant has been practicing it all along. If you tell them you plan to make that peasant from Ealdor a member of court, they'll think you madder than Uther under a troll enchantment. Worse, they'll probably think I enchanted you."

"It's a good job I have already thought of that and dug up some rather irrefutable evidence of your place in Camelot's court." Arthur approached his bedside table and picked up the rolled piece of parchment that sat there. He handed the document to Merlin, who stared dumbly at it and made no move up open it.

"What's this?"

"Your family's seal of nobility."

Merlin laughed then. "I haven't got a seal of nobility!"

"You have," Arthur said surely. "Balinor was a dragon_lord_, Merlin. Before my father turned against them, the dragonlords came from nobility. I asked Geoffrey to research it for me."

When Merlin still made no move to open the scroll, Arthur huffed and snatched it up again. He opened it to reveal a coat of arms, its crest, like his own family's, a gold dragon. The beast faced the opposite direction of the one adorning Arthur's cape and sat atop a seal of rich royal blue.

"This is the crest of the Ambrosius family," the king explained, "of which you are the last remaining descendant. The Ambrosius family was once highly respected, holding one of the most powerful lordships in Albion. In fact, there were close ties between the Ambrosiuses and the Pendragons for years." Arthur placed the seal back in the warlock's hands. "You are nobility, Merlin, true nobility by birth into the house of Ambrosius. And I am reinstating the title that is your birthright."

Merlin studied the document with a frown before meeting Arthur's eyes. "Arthur, you must be joking. I'm not a noble. I'm... Look at me. Do I look like a lord to you?"

Arthur looked at him critically for a moment and sighed in false disapproval. "Appearances aside, you are the descendant of a very old family of nobles. Not that it changes anything, really. You are still a lazy idiot and a hopeless fool and..." He stopped himself and set a hand on Merlin's shoulder. "Well, whether a bit of parchment decrees it or not, you have always been the noblest man I know. This just makes you a proper member of the court for the sake of the 'stuck-up nobles' who need appeasing. Besides, I thought you might want it as one of the remaining legacies from your father. I imagine you have precious little by which to remember him."

Merlin watched him with glassy eyes and Arthur knew he had done something right. He wasn't always the best at expressing gratitude, but for the first time in years he was making a true effort to ensure that Merlin knew how appreciated he was. "I... thank you."

Arthur turned to the table and grabbed a blue cloth object that had been folded and set there by Guinevere. "There's more," he said as he put it in Merlin's hand.

With a quick glance at Arthur, the younger man eagerly unfolded the fine material to reveal the gold Ambrosius crest. With further investigation, he discovered that it was a blue cloak with gold clasps at the neck.

"Geoffrey recalled some belongings of the Ambrosius family being locked away in the vaults down below," Arthur explained. "We found this with a bit of digging, and I believe it was worn by your father long ago. There are more of your family heirlooms among magical objects that you may want to examine."

Merlin ran his fingers over the embroidered crest as if touching something fragile and precious. "I can't thank you enough for this, Arthur."

"And of course, there are some magic books that were not destroyed by my father. You are free to do as you like with anything that was stored away in the Great Purge. You'll need something to fill all that space, after all."

Again, Merlin looked rather bemused at Arthur. "What space?"

"In your new chambers, of course."

"Arthur, I haven't moved to any new chambers."

Arthur rolled his eyes and indicated for Merlin to follow him to a set of doors in a corridor adjacent to the Arthur's corridor.

"Where are we going?"

Arthur opened the door and stepped into a chamber nearly as large as his own but adorned in shades of blue. The furniture was made of beautiful dark wood and included a four-poster bed with bedside tables, a desk and chair and an ornate chest for clothes. The three bookcases lining the walls were still entirely bare except for a single magic book given to Merlin by Gaius years ago.

The king watched his former servant's eyes travel the room before settling on the meager pile of his belongings—everything he owned in the world—on top of the bed. They would hardly fill a drawer in the large chest.

"I can't have my new court sorcerer—and certainly not a noble—living in a drafty, cramped room in the physician's chambers."

"You really must be joking now," Merlin said in disbelief.

"I assure you that I am not. It was Guinevere's idea that you should have proper chambers and I quite agree."

Merlin shook his head. "This is too much. Just because you think this all makes me a noble—"

"It has nothing to do with your station," Arthur argued. "You have saved my life more times than a king is owed by any one subject and at great risk to your own life, Merlin, and have been incredibly loyal for no reason than your faith in me. I'm not certain that I ever earned such faith, but you gave it despite my many shortcomings. This is a meager show of gratitude for all you have done for this kingdom."

"But it requires no thanks," Merlin insisted. "I did it because you're my friend."

Arthur smiled. "And I did this because you are _my_ friend. The greatest friend I've ever known."

Merlin grinned and looked around again. "That bed is really mine?"

"It really is."

And with a childish bounce in his step, Merlin leapt onto the bed and collapsed against the pillows. "Oh, this is heavenly."

"I swear, you have the mind of a child, _Lord_ _Ambrosius_," Arthur chastised as he grabbed the blue cloak.

Merlin sat up and pulled a face. "Ugh, that sounds atrocious. Rhymes with it, too."

"Better not let Gwaine hear you say that or else you'll never be rid of the name. Would you prefer to be called Lord Emrys? I suppose you aren't required to take the name of your father's house."

"Merlin works just fine," the warlock said cheerfully. "I've been Merlin my whole life and I rather like it."

"Fine. Lord Merlin it is. "

"_Just_ Merlin."

Arthur rolled his eyes and sighed with exasperation. "Well, obviously _I_ know to just call you Merlin. Get over here, you fool."

Merlin laughed as he came over. Arthur unfolded the cloak and threw it around the warlock's shoulders. As he went to fasten it, Merlin tried to protest. "I will do it," Arthur commanded and tugged the neck tighter. When Merlin stopped fighting him, Arthur worked on tying it. "Merlin, I know a lot of things are changing rather quickly, but can you promise me one thing?"

"What's that?" Merlin asked as he shifted, clearly uncomfortable with the role reversal for the moment.

"Never change, not for anyone. I want you to always be you."

The corner of Merlin's mouth twitched upward as he watched Arthur's hand work. "Child's mind and all?"

"And all." Arthur finished fastening the cape and stepped back to admire his handiwork. "There. We'll make a noble out of you yet."

Merlin snorted as he looked down at himself. "Not bloody likely."

"Well... Not in those boots, of course."

"Hey! I _like_ these boots."

"Further evidence that they must go. Also, have you never heard of a comb?"

* * *

"My entire life," Arthur said to the many occupants of the throne room, "I was taught to fear magic. My father raised his son and ruled his kingdom on the principal that all magic was evil. And in accordance with that principal, all those who had magic were made enemies of Camelot and her citizens.

"I do not doubt my father's good intentions in this matter, but I am no longer a young boy who must accept his father's truth. And, as your king, it is my duty to this kingdom to look at those who have come before me and recognize their successes and their mistakes. I am here today to tell you that my father was wrong.

"I know that many of you have been given reason to fear sorcery. We in Camelot have all met our fair share of those who would harm us with magic. But that is because those who would do good with it were either forced into hiding by fear or, worse, were so consumed by fear that they turned to evil.

"I am as guilty as any other person of the prejudices that forced so many to hide their natural abilities, but I have recently learned a different truth. I have met dragons who would protect this kingdom from harm. I have seen magic heal deadly wounds. I have witnessed a magic born of true love that endures even in death." Arthur glanced beside him at Merlin and smiled slightly. "And I have learned of the magic that has long existed at the heart of Camelot to protect me and my people.

"Magic is no more evil than the sword. It can protect as easily as it can harm. Like the sword, its use is determined by its wielder. This is why I must officially repeal the ban on magic in Camelot. Those who use magic shall be treated as equals to those without it. All residents of Camelot will henceforth be judged for their character and actions and not for their abilities. I ask that you all live by _that_ principal.

"My sister Morgana, though she died an enemy of this kingdom, once had a kind, beautiful heart and cared deeply for Camelot's people. It was not magic that corrupted her but the fear of persecution that made her our enemy. If we accept our magical brothers and sisters, we can ensure that no others are pushed into such darkness by fear.

"We must all honor and nurture those we love rather than reject them for their natural abilities." Arthur searched the crowd before him and found Mordred, his youngest and most promising knight and one of the most honorable men he had ever known. The young druid's eyes were bright with hope and promise, and Arthur remembered the words Merlin had repeated to him on their way to Avalon. "In the words of a very wise druid, who is dear to my heart as a son, 'The love that binds us is more important than the power we yield.'"

The room broke into applause and, despite the many unsure faces among the crowd, Arthur had a good feeling about what was to come. He watched Mordred smile in surprise and duck his head humbly. Further to the left, Gaius patted Hunith's arm as the woman, dressed in a modest but finely-made blue gown, cried silently.

Arthur accepted a quill Geoffrey and dipped it into the ink well on the table that stood before him. To his left, Guinevere beamed at him with pride. To the right, Merlin... Well, he continued to fidget a bit, quite obviously uncomfortable with standing at the head of a room filled with so many people. He'd have to get used to it, though. Merlin, who was so bright and honest and good, did not belong hidden in the shadows, and Arthur would never let him relegated there again.

Without further hesitation, Arthur put his signature and seal to the decree. He took a deep breath as he finished and looked back at the man beside him. "Merlin."

The smile that played on Merlin's lips was small and unassuming, and someone less familiar with the warlock might have never known the sense of triumph and pure elation hidden there. But to Arthur, Merlin's earnest, tear-filled eyes told the story of a man who had silently sacrificed so much because he was filled with such love and goodness. A man who had desperately fought for a dream that had at times seemed hopeless. A man who would have readily abandoned his personal dream of freedom for love of his king and friend.

Arthur had never seen Merlin happier, and the king himself would count it as one of the greatest moments of his own life.

He grinned and clapped his hand over the warlock's shoulder. "It's a new day."

* * *

And it was the first day of a new age. In the years to follow, new alliances would be formed and old wrongs would be righted. In those years, the friendship of the valiant King Arthur and the wise warlock Merlin would create a Camelot that would endure in legend for centuries. A peace yet unknown to Albion in Arthur's lifetime would unite the land under Camelot's leadership. And magic would flourish again for one last Golden Age.

Of course, prophecy always has a way of unfolding in time and Albion's Golden Age would one day come to an end. A dark power would turn the loyal young knight Sir Mordred against his king, but it would be many years still until they would face one another on that final battlefield. Arthur would be a well-lived man with a son of his own when he fell at Camlann, leaving Guinevere to continue his work. When she and their friends eventually passed and Albion divided again, magic would slowly fade until it was but a myth. And Merlin would wait until the time when the Once and Future King would rise again.

But that is a story for another day, for it matters not where the tale ends so much as where it began: With a haughty prince and a foolish warlock whose friendship would become the stuff of legends.

* * *

**This epilogue kind of ran away from me lengthwise, but I just couldn't bring myself to cut any of it! I'm quite happy with where this ended. I hope you all feel the same way. I wanted to allude to the rest of their tale for anyone who is content to finish "Fighting Fate" and not proceed to the sequels. But don't worry, I mean it when I say it's a story for another day :)**

**So about those sequels... I have already decided that their titles will be "Revising Fate" and "Meeting Fate," and they will tell the story hinted at in the ending here. RF will take place about a year after this story and MF about 15 years after that. I probably won't post the first chapter until this fall because I want to have a decent amount prewritten.**

**Revising Fate: For just over a year, magic has been legalized in Camelot. It has taken a lot of work from King Arthur, his Court Sorcerer, his Queen and the Knights of the Round Table to change Camelot's views and earn the respect of those previously persecuted, but things in Camelot are finally settling down. Content that Camelot is thriving under the new laws, Merlin goes on a trip to learn more healing magic from the Druids. However, when faced with the loss of a loved one, Merlin attempts to cheat death and threatens the balance created by Arthur's legalization of magic. He finds that he has angered the Triple Goddess and that Arthur could pay the price for his mistake. Meanwhile, a magical artifact discovered in a hidden vault in Camelot has the potential to corrupt even the purest of hearts, and Mordred may fall victim to its power.**

**I will hold off on a synopsis for MF but will mention that Morgana manages to make an appearance somehow... You'll have to wait to see how, but thanks to Irene for her prompt that evolved into that part of the story.**

**I also have some side stories I would like to write in this new AU that sprouts from the events of FF. These include:**

**-A story about Merlin traveling to Nemeth as Camelot's ambassador to help them reintroduce magic into their own kingdom (inspired by a combination of reviewer suggestions)**

**-A sad story about Kilgharrah's passing**

**-A silly story about trying to convince Aithusa to lay an egg to preserve the dragon species**

**-A story in which Merlin must face Gaius's mortality and his own potential immortality**

**Have any other stories within this sort-of AU that you would like to see? Let me know what you think. I can't promise to do all of them or to do them exactly as suggested, but I don't mind prompts that get me thinking. Considering that the beginning of FF until the end of MF spans more than 15 years of Merlin's life, there is a lot of time to work with.**

**I'll also add some scenes and drabbles to "Protecting the Prat" now that this is done. Feel free to tell me if there is anything you'd like to see in that as well.**

**And so, I must bid you all farewell and final thanks for this story. Your reviews and suggestions truly made my first fanfic a wonderful experience. Thank you all!**


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